


Redemption

by Ithiel_Dragon, virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angel Sam Winchester, Angels, Angst, Demons, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Original Character(s), Psychic Dean, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Unrelated Winchesters, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2010-08-25
Packaged: 2018-10-04 09:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 227,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10273313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithiel_Dragon/pseuds/Ithiel_Dragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: Dean Winchester has spent half his life in a mental institution because he sees 'demons' everywhere.  The only problem is that no one else sees them.  Unable to take it anymore, he attempts to commit suicide.  His soul is sent to hell for the sin of taking his own life, but he is rescued by an angel named Samuel, who tries to help Dean on the path to redemption.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story uploaded by Ithiel Dragon. This was a roleplay story I was involved in several years ago on a forum called Devil's Gate. Ithiel Dragon played Dean Winchester, and some other characters. Virtual Personal (as Cas) played Sam Winchester, and some other characters. I am posting this story in its entirety and unedited. The page breaks are where the author changed. Maybe one day I will go back and edit it into a more proper story format, but don't hold your breath. I'm mostly posting this story here so I don't lose it. I still think its a pretty good read the way it is, but it is still obviously a roleplay. You've been warned.

  
Dean sat curled up in the corner of his bed. His back to the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, rocking back and forth. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. He was on edge. The new medication was supposed to help with that, but all it really did was make him sick to his stomach.    


  
He hadn't touched his dinner tonight he'd felt so nauseous, and they'd scolded him, but the nurse didn't try to force him to eat this time. He knew if he didn't eat tomorrow, then they probably would, even though tomorrow it would probably be even less likely he'd be able to eat. 

They were starting him on new 'treatment' tomorrow. 

The doctor had spoken to him like he was two years old, even though Dean was twenty four. Explaining the procedure to him. Trying to make it sound less horrible than it was. Telling him once it was over he'd be much better. 

Tomorrow they were cutting open his brain and taking pieces out. That was pretty much the gist of it, even though the doctor had tried to sugar coat it. Dean wasn't stupid though. He might be crazy, but he wasn't stupid. 

Schizophrenic. Delusional. Hallucinations. 

Those were the words the doctors used to describe what was wrong with him. They didn't like it when you used words like 'crazy' or 'insane' but Dean knew that's what he was, so why use the 'big' words, trying to make it sound all scientific? He was insane because he saw things. Horrible things. Things that other people couldn't see, so they obviously weren't real. So he was crazy. He'd been crazy his whole life. Living half of his life in this mental institution while the doctors did 'everything in their power' to 'fix' him.

He'd been on every different medication there was, and even some of the experimental shit that was banned not long after they started giving it to him. He'd been poked and prodded. He'd had his brain electrocuted, shock 'therapy'. Therapy… yeah right… more like just shy of medieval torture. But none of it had worked. He still saw things. 

He couldn't even look the hospital director in the eye because the man looked like… he looked like a monster. Plain and simple. Jagged teeth, flesh rotting from his face, piercing red eyes. He had screamed bloody murder the first time he'd seen the man when he was twelve years old. His mother had cried and his father couldn't seem to leave him there fast enough. 

He barely saw them anymore. Weekly visits had dwindled down to monthly then yearly, usually around his birthday or Christmas, one of the two. Last year they'd forgotten his birthday entirely. After all, his parents had two perfectly _normal_ children now. What did they need with one that was crazy?

So, tomorrow they were cutting up his brain. Going to take out the parts that were 'insane' so he wouldn't be crazy anymore. Or at least he'd be a manageable crazy. Probably drooling and shitting in his pants for the rest of his life, but as long as he wasn't any more trouble to the doctors or nurses that's all that mattered, right?

Dean slowly uncurled himself and reached between his bed and the wall, digging around till he found the small hole in the mattress and pulling out a small sharp piece of metal. It was barely bigger than a razor blade but he'd been slowly sharpening it. Hell, it didn't need to be very big for what he wanted to use it for. It had been ready for a while, but he hadn't done much more than look at it and ponder what it would be like to use it. To make all the pain go away forever. 

They said if you committed suicide you were sent to hell. Hell. That didn't scare Dean. After all he was already in hell. He was tired. So damn tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of all these people wanting to 'fix' him but none of them wanting to help him. Maybe he wouldn't go to any 'better' place than this, but at least it wouldn't be any worse.

The metal easily sliced open the flesh of his arm, starting at his wrist and going almost clean to his elbow. Dean wasn't surprised how easily it cut, after all, he'd been testing it on other things, he knew the blade was sharp. But he was surprised how little it hurt. Even with all the blood that started pouring out of his arm, dripping down and staining the bed covers bright red, it wasn't worse than anything else _they'd_ done to him. 

Maybe he shouldn't have put this off as long as he had, he couldn't help but think as he made a second cut on his other arm the same way. It was a little more difficult because the fingers of his first hand were a little numb by then. He was surprised how quickly it was happening. He thought he couldn't sleep, but now he felt like he couldn't keep his eyes open. 

He laid down. Stretching out his arm, watching his blood trickle down his fingers, and drip onto the floor. He almost couldn't see to the ends of his own fingers, his vision growing fuzzy, and for some reason he found that funny. He felt the metal slip out of his weak grasp, heard it hit the floor. The edges of his vision began to grow dark and he started to feel the tiniest bit of fear coiling in his stomach. It wasn't as though he really wanted to die, after all. It was just he couldn't live like this any longer.

_Help me…_ Dean prayed, not for the first time, but no one had ever answered. He was always alone, and now he would die alone. A small tear slid down his cheek as his eyes slid closed.    


* * *

Standing in line at the small grocery store/deli, Samuel closely watched the interaction of the people around him. Some grinding coffee beans, and sending wafts of the delicate aroma into the air while chatting about whether the Kenyan blend was milder than the Sumatra. Some arguing about what they wanted to cook in the evening. Others making plans for the weekend.

A slight smile played on his lips. He couldn’t help himself, he loved humanity.

Unlike the others of his kind, he didn’t look down his nose at those he was supposed to help. He found them interesting, not despite their flaws… but because of them. Every scar, every wrinkle, every pained expression held a story, and made each individual unique. It was somewhat ironic then, that when they looked at him, it was his lack of imperfections that they found attractive.

Realizing it was his turn, Sam unloaded his basket. Making small talk, he tried to ease the nervous teen ringing up his baguette, various cheeses and a fine bottle of wine. Each time he met her gaze, she blushed a bit brighter, and then started to make mistakes on the register. Sam made a joke, and turned and talked to the people behind him, calming them down so she could finish.

As he accepted his change, her fingers brushed his. “Thank you. Oh… you should do it. Go ahead and apply for college like you’re thinking.” Seeing her mouth drop open, he nodded. “Really.”

Even as he strode out with the paper bag filled with groceries, he felt her staring at him. She’d needed just a little push. Even if she wasn’t his ward, he’d given it. College was her ticket out of an abusive house, she just had to stretch a little and she’d be home free. He prayed she’d do it.

The streets of San Francisco were always alive and buzzing with activity. He loved all the cafes, the street vendors, the smell of food, and the bumper to bumper traffic. Mostly, he enjoyed the eclectic mix of people that could be found in any location. Students, business people in suits, Goths, people that had their own fashion sense, rubbed elbows and went to the same places. He wove through the people, used to the stares that followed him everywhere he went. Course the fact that he was at least a head taller than most people alone was enough to draw some of the attention.

He joined the crowd crossing the street even though the pedestrian light was blinking red. It felt good to be a rebel and ignore the rules. There were far too many, and a good percentage of them were unnecessary or accomplished nothing. Rules just for the purpose of having rules, bugged the crap out of him.

A few blocks later, he wasn’t surprised when two waiters came to outdoor seating area of the brasserie next to his place. It was a daily ritual.

“Hi Sam, shall we save you any dessert tonight?”

He thought for a moment. “I’ll be back for the fudge brownie and vanilla ice cream. I licked every last drop off my spoon the last time. See you later.”

“He licked every last drop,” Sarah echoed, trying to emulate his tone. “God… his voice gets me every time.”

“His voice? Honey, don’t you got eyes?” Daryl’s gaze followed Sam all the way until he ducked into his apartment building. “That guy’s built for sex. I’m serving his dessert.”

“Uh uh, my turn…”

As he took the stairs to his apartment, Sam chuckled under his breath. They were constants in his life. Wards changed, assignments had him moving around, but Sarah and Daryl were always there with their happy smiles, secret looks, and desserts that were to die for.

He quickly entered his one bedroom apartment and grabbed a cutting board, knife, wine glass, and a book, then was back out in a flash. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the roof, and headed to his favorite spot.

Eventually, he relaxed, sitting with his legs dangling off the roof, and his wings unfurled behind him. He sipped his wine, and ate a bit of bread and cheese and when he wasn’t reading, he watched the world go around. Until a new assignment came along, he’d be pretty much at loose ends. Maybe he’d spend the day the lovely private library he’d discovered at one of the homes on Knobb Hill. It wasn’t too large but it had a spectacular selection of books and was very cozy. Nothing was as soothing as a fireplace and good book or five. Maybe he would…

His banal thoughts came to a screeching halt as his mind was invaded by pain and anguish of the likes he’d never experienced. Someone else’s. His heart started to beat erratically, matching that of the person whose thoughts were now being fed directly into his.  
 _  
This is impossible. Who are you?_ He asked. He could pick up thoughts through physical contact and also from those who were assigned to him as wards, but even then, it was nothing like the crystal clear connection he was experiencing. _Who are you?_ He demanded again.

There was a silence, and then a sharp pain. He looked down and his inner right arm was bleeding in a straight line. _Stop. Don’t do this…_ His other arm started to bleed, rivulets of scarlet dripping to the ground.

In his minds eye, he saw a scarlet wave staining white sheets. He saw darkness. He was swamped by loneliness, endless loneliness. Hearing the human’s hopeless plea for help, Sam cried for him. His tears dropped onto the scarlet pools of blood on either side of his body on the roof. _I’m here. You’re not alone. I will help you, I swear. Tell me where you are my... son._

The sound of silence was deafening, and Sam stood up. His eyes darkened to black, reflecting the emotions stirring within him. He needed to help this lost man… this boy… he didn’t know why, but he knew if he didn’t, a piece of him would always be lost. _Talk to me, I know you can. Don’t. Don’t choose to die before you give me a chance._

The angel bit his lip so hard, he was now bleeding from a third place. He concentrated, used his voice as a weapon of persuasion. _Please. Please don’t leave this world, not like this. Not like this._  


* * *

The darkness almost seemed alive. Winding around him with cold tendrils, pulling him deeper and deeper under. Digging icy claws into his flesh and refusing to let go. Chilling him to the core. He was so cold, he could barely think. It was difficult to breathe. Like a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest, and it didn't matter how hard he struggled he couldn't suck air into his constricting lungs, and the darkness wove even tighter around him.

_I'm here…_

It was so faint at first he barely heard it. It was like a whisper lost in a cold howling wind. He was certain he'd only imagined it.

_You're not alone…_

Was he dreaming? Unconscious? He'd already lost a huge amount of blood, so that wouldn't have surprised him. But he didn't feel like he was dreaming. Certainly if he was dreaming he wouldn't feel so cold.

_I will help you, I swear…_

Dean's brow furrowed, and though it took much more effort than he would have ever imagined, his eyes slid open. He couldn't see. Not really. Everything was fuzzy and the darkness was reluctant to leave his vision. He blinked, trying to force it away, and it only tugged at him harder. Trying to pull him back under, but he resisted.

_Tell me where you are my... son…_

No, he wasn't dreaming. He was hallucinating. Again. Shouldn't be a surprise really. He'd been having them all his life, after all. Though he was a little surprised by this one. His hallucinations were normally terrifying. Grotesque images worse than any nightmare he'd ever had. But he didn't seen anything but the fuzzy outline of his ceiling swimming in and out of focus.

_Talk to me, I know you can._

Dean shook his head a little, the single effort more draining than he'd ever imagined. He didn't understand what this hallucination was all about, but he certainly wasn't going to _talk_ to it. Even if it was only a voice inside his head, he wasn't about to encourage it. He wanted to die in peace, and no matter how warm and almost… comforting… the voice was he was afraid of it. It could change at any moment, and he didn't want the last thing he saw in this world to be something horrible. Something like the hospital director.

He closed his eyes again, willing the darkness to take him, and it seemed all too eager to comply.

_Don't. Don't choose to die before you give me a chance._

Dean almost sobbed at the genuine… caring… he could hear in the voice. More understanding than he thought anyone else had ever shown him in his life. Maybe if some of his hallucinations had been like this before, he wouldn't have minded them so much.

_Please. Please don't leave this world, not like this. Not like this._

_I can't… I can't…_ Dean thought, cold tears sliding down the icy skin of his cheeks. _It's too late…_

It was too late. Much too late. Even if he didn't die tonight, what would happen to him once the doctors decided to go through with their new treatment? No. He didn't want to live like that. He couldn't! But the words seemed to penetrate deep into his soul. Igniting a spark of warmth inside of him that he couldn't ignore. That felt as hot as a supernova because the rest of him was so cold.

So long. So long he'd longed for something like it. It was ironic that it was only once he decided to end his life he'd experience a taste of it. Even if it was only a hallucination. But he was selfish enough that he did not want to lose it, and he began to struggle once more against the suffocating cold darkness.

It didn't want to let him go. He could feel its rage. Cold claws tearing deep into him, making him sob softly in pain as he struggled against their pull. He forced his eyes open again even though he could barely see. He struggled to sit up in the bed, finally only managed to roll out of it onto the floor.

The jarring impact almost sending him back under but he struggled to stay awake, to move, practically crawling to the door of his room. Leaving a bloody trail behind him. Grabbing the locked door handle and pulling himself up through force of will alone. Banging on the door weakly, leaving bright red handprints on the white finish, trying to get the attention of the orderlies patrolling the hallways this late at night but there was nothing.

Dean almost sank back to the floor in defeat but then he remembered the emergency button in the bathroom. It was in all the rooms but mostly for the older patients in case they needed help or fell or something.

As weak as he was the distance could have been a mile rather than only a few feet, and every stumbling step he took was a struggle, clinging to the wall for support, he was sure he'd never make it. He almost didn't. His legs buckling almost as soon as his bare feet hit the recognizably cold tile and he could barely see anything. Not even an outline or a blur, he had to feel around the wall, cursing and sobbing when he couldn't find it..

And then, he did.

He jammed in the button as he crumbled to the floor. The last of his strength literally bleeding out of him and once more his eyes slid closed. The darkness rising up quickly to swallow him up again and this time he knew he couldn't stop it. He simply wasn't strong enough.

Dean didn't notice the door to his room opening soon after or the running footsteps. He didn't feel the hands turning him over or hear the shouts of the nurses calling for help.

He did however quickly learn that there were much worse things than the hell he'd been living in all his life.

Hell.

* * *

  
_Athens Mental Health Center._

The whisper in his head was so low now that Samuel almost didn’t catch all the slurred ending. But it was enough for the angel to go on. He launched himself off the roof, his great wings unfurling behind him and hurtling him through the air faster than the human eye could follow, even if he hadn’t chosen to be invisible to mankind.

His mind was a jumble of information, places, people, things, locations… gleaned both through biologic transmission of historical information, and from books, experiences and the people he’d met throughout his lengthy lifetime. He sifted through them, organized them, and found what he needed. Ohio. An infamous facility in Ohio. There were whispers about the unorthodox methods used at the center, but most of the patients were criminally insane or abandoned to the system by their families and efforts to investigate or close it down had proven fruitless.

_Are you waiting for me?_ He asked, in vain. There was only silence, though the wounds on Sam’s arms closed and healed, giving him some hope.

In his wake, Sam gave others hope as well. On the earth below him, everywhere his blood had dropped, he left a trail of life. Flowers bloomed where there had only been weeds, deadened trees came to life, and the corn grew just a bit taller.

His wings beat relentlessly until he landed in front of the large, brick institution, set on a large campus. Outside, it was green and peaceful, but the building itself was formidable. And the turbulence of emotions emanating from it told a completely different story.

Samuel slammed both hands against the front doors and entered, ignoring the havoc the gust of wind that followed him caused at reception as people scrambled to pick up papers and close the door, commenting on freakish weather. Some of them might have thought they belonged in the mental ward themselves had they been able to see him in his full glory, taking long purposeful strides as he headed straight for the hospital facilities.

It wasn’t hard to find the one he was looking for. A team of doctors and nurses were bent over a patient who was flat lining. _No_.

The sight of the body chilled Sam. A young man lay bare chested on the surgical table, his skin so pale, such a contrast against the blood smearing him everywhere, and staining his hospital blue pants. _Breathe. Breathe for me._

Sam moved through some of the doctors as they prepared the defibrillator again. He was so beautiful, this child of man. So young, too young to die. Too innocent to be condemned to hell for his final act of taking his own life. _Live. Live._

The shock to the patient’s chest had his body arching practically off the table. A doctor shouted again! And they shocked him. An appropriate interval passed, and they tried again.

“It’s time to call it.”

_No! No!_ Sam put both hands on the young man’s chest. _Come back. Come back to me. Follow my light. Let me save you.  
_  


* * *

Pain.

It began the moment the darkness slipped away. The cold replaced by heat. Scorching. Burning heat. It was all he knew. More intense than any he’d ever experienced in his entire life. That seemed almost funny now. Looking back. All of his twenty four years of life, all he seemed to know was pain, on one level or another. He’d thought he knew what pain was. What suffering was.

How naïve he’d been…

Hurricane like winds howled around him, deafening. Though not loud enough to drown out the screams of agony that seemed to come from everywhere. His own screams quickly joining the chorus of others. Damned souls like him.

As the wind hurled fire and debris that practically flayed flesh from bone. Practically blinding his fragile eyes. But he wasn’t blind. He could see more clearly than perhaps he ever had in his life. More horror than he had ever imagined. The desolate landscape stretching as far as he could see. Twisted shapes of structures, buildings, that reached like skeletal claws towards the fiery red sky, bathing everything below it blood red.

Horrible… creatures… twisted rotting things that fed on the damned. Tearing them limb from limb, their jaws and teeth stained with blood and gore, but no matter how they ripped and tore at the damned souls they still screamed in agony. Not dying. Just… screaming... pain… endless pain without relief.

Somehow that wasn’t even the worst of it. Perhaps the worst of it was, that it was so familiar. Even though he’d only seen small glimpses of it before. In his life. But he had _seen_ it. He’d seen Hell. He’d seen these creatures before, and he’d been told were only hallucinations. But they weren’t. They were real…

That horrible truth. That was the worst of all. He hadn’t been crazy, but no one had believed him. He had been punished for seeing these things, that no one else could see. He couldn’t be fixed because he wasn’t broken and he had killed himself…

He screamed again, for an entirely different reason, and his anguish seemed to draw the attention of some of the creatures. They turned their eyeless faces towards him, salivating as they approached. Ready to tear into his untouched flesh… his unmarred soul... and horror filled him like he had never experienced and he tried to scramble away from the beasts but there was nowhere to go. No escape.

He was damned…

_Help me. Help me please!_ He screamed, prayed, even though part of him never expected an answer. There had never been one during his life, why would there be one now, especially here? But… there had been an answer… in those last few moments of his life. He hadn’t believed it was any more real than any of his other hallucinations… but…

He reached for it desperately now. Searching for it blindly inside of him, that spark, that flicker of light and warmth he had felt when everything else had been dark and cold. Sobbing brokenly when he couldn’t find it, but then suddenly it was there and he grasped at it desperately.

_Please… please help me… please…_ He begged, holding on with everything he could when it threatened to slip away, and then suddenly he was being… drawn back. He felt the claws of the creatures ripping into him, making him scream as they tried to drag him back down, but he refused to let go…

And finally his heart lurched to life in his chest.   

 

* * *

"Doctor!"

Rare whoops of joy escaped some of the stunned medical team, who went back into action the minute the patient started to breathe on his own. Blood volume expanders were intravenously administered to take care of the initial shock to the patient's system. His wounds were re-bandaged with more care, and his vitals were checked and re-checked.

Afraid the boy might slip away again, Samuel never took his hand off him as the staff treated him for massive loss of blood.

*

 

Hours later, after he was moved to a regular room, Sam stood against the wall, reading the chart. Dean Winchester… his gaze flicked to the sleeping man. The name suited him. Smiling, he looked back down at the chart. It was the last smile that lit Sam's face.

Page by page, he thumbed through the chart, learning Dean had been here since he was twelve and had spent an equal amount of time in this institution as he had outside. He hadn't sensed madness in him when they'd mentally connected, confusion perhaps.

Then he started to read about the things he 'hallucinated' about as a young boy and even after being brought to this facility. There was nothing wrong with the boy. He was gifted with the curse of true sight. His eyes started to go completely black when he read about the treatments he'd been put through. Barbaric. Far below the accepted standard of psychiatric care. Even illegal methods.

Then he learned that one Dean Winchester had been scheduled for brain surgery tomorrow morning, and the top sheet of the chart went up in flames, leaving ashes flying through the air.

*

It was almost dawn when Dean stirred. Samuel moved next to the bed, and looked down at him at the same time as few nurses walked in. They were taking his vitals, and one of them was a bit rough in the way she pushed a thermometer in his mouth. Sam pulled it out partially, and held it so she couldn't push it back in. Little did she know he eased it out of Dean's mouth and into her hand.

"He's waking," one of them said. "Little bastard is responsible for my missing the concert. They needed extra staff. Why couldn't he have offed himself."

Sam touched her cheek, and the awful words stopped dripping from her mouth. Spooked, she ran out of the room, leaving only the other nurse behind.

* * *

His brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Thick and fuzzy and hard to think. His mouth and throat so dry it was like he’d been eating sand. His body feeling so heavy it was like all his limbs were weighed down by weights, or that he was laying at the bottom of a deep ocean with miles of water crushing down on top of him. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation to say the least, but he was too weak to struggle. Even opening his eyes felt like too much effort, his eyelashes barely fluttering against his pale cheeks when he tried.

Somehow he knew he wasn’t alone even before he heard the voices of the two nurses.

It was difficult to pick out their words, none of his senses seemed to be working properly, but he recognized the tone of one of women. The nurse had never really liked him much. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when the thermometer was suddenly jammed between his teeth, so far back he nearly choked on it. What was a surprise however was when the pressure was eased a moment later.

It was only more confusing when he managed to pick out the last part of her next words.

_Why couldn't he have offed himself_

Memories started to come crashing back through the thick fog around his brain, and his heart sped up a little. Adrenaline pumping through his veins as he remembered slitting his wrists the night before… dying… he had died and…

Somehow he managed to wrench his eyes open, panicking a little and needing to see for certain that he wasn’t… there… anymore. But at first he couldn’t see anything but a big blur, and he blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision.

He was in no way prepared for what he saw when his eyes finally managed to somewhat focus on the figure standing beside his bed. Two figures actually, but his gaze was immediately drawn to one. The one with the gigantic… wings… sprouting from his back.

Dean gasped sharply, his eyes growing wide.

* * *

“What? You seeing things again?” The nurse asked, not too sharply.

Samuel moved closer. “Shshshsh. Don’t be afraid. It’s me.” Smiling slightly, he reached out to gently hold Dean’s hand. He was acutely aware of the tubes connected to his wrists, and the bandages over his self inflicted wounds. “You’re not seeing things. They’re the one’s that are blind.”

The nurse’s lips went flat at the lack of a response. “The doctor will be in later,” she huffed, and walked out.

“I’m scaring you. I’m sorry.” Sam folded his wings, and made them disappear so he looked almost human. The others, those who didn’t have the sight, would still be unable to see him though. He squeezed Dean’s hand, sensing somehow that the young man was not used to being touched. Strange though, he sensed very little else of his feelings and emotions. Usually, direct contact would give him much more feedback about the individual he was touching.

“My name is Samuel. You called me. I don’t know how you did it… how I heard you, but I did. And I’m here now.” Twelve years too late. Four thousand two hundred seventy days, and countless hours too late. He was almost swamped by sadness, but he reminded himself that Dean had chosen to live, that he had a chance now at a normal… more normal life. “When I leave this place, I'll take you with me. You don’t belong here.”

* * *

Dean didn’t even hear the nurse’s question.

His brain simply couldn’t process anything right now other than what he was seeing. What he was… hearing… from the…

He didn’t even know what to call it… he didn’t even want to think the word, but what other word was there for a man with wing sprouting from his back? Angel… Dean didn’t believe in Angels. Of course he didn’t really believe in hell either until he’d seen it with his own eyes.

 

His… hallucinations… had never been like this before. They had always been horrible. Twisted. Grotesque. Frightening… just like what he had seen when he had… died… Dean swallowed hard recalling the horror he had seen, that he would never be able to forget, no matter how much he wanted to.

But this… him… he was…

Dean blinked when he told him that he wasn’t seeing things. That somehow seemed really funny coming from his own hallucination. But the warmth seeping into his hand felt so real. More than real, it felt familiar. Just like the voice was familiar. The voice he had heard right before the end, as his life was bleeding out of him. The warmth, that had been so faint, but it had pulled him back literally from the depths of hell, saved him… and now it was so strong, washing over him in waves from where their hands touched…

The young man blinked again when the… angel… apologized for scaring him and the wings suddenly disappeared. If he wasn’t crazy… then what the hell was he? Why did he see these things when other people couldn’t? Call him? How could he have _called_ Samuel…

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand any of it.

Dean glanced briefly down at their joined hands. Samuel still holding it, so carefully, it was as though he feared he would break him if he squeezed too tightly. Dean wasn’t used to anyone touching him… like this… with kindness. Hell, most people didn’t even _speak_ to him kindly.

The young man’s eyes flew back to the angel’s when Samuel said he was going to take him with him. He didn’t belong here? What… did he mean… where? Take him out of the hospital? Dean had never hoped to leave this place, not any way other than how he’d tried last night, anyway. Why… why would Samuel say that? Why would he want to… help him. No one cared about him. Not even his own parents who had left him here and all but forgotten he existed.

“Why…?” Dean finally managed in a faint rasping whisper. The only word he could manage through his throat, tight with so many emotions washing over him at once from fear and confusion, to hope he barely wanted to acknowledge less it proved false, that it was nearly strangling him.

* * *

Every expression that crossed over Dean’s pale face reflected his turbulent and horrific past. Sam almost lost his serene smile, but hung onto it for Dean. He held his breath at the sheer disbelief in those pained green eyes. How could so many people have looked into this man’s face and seen those eyes, the pleading, the loneliness, and have just walked away?

“Why? That’s a complicated question, with many answers. Here is one. You are a son of mankind, and I love you.” Careful not to move too suddenly, Sam leaned over him and pressed a light kiss on his forehead. When he lifted his head, he saw the confusion was still there, clouding Dean’s eyes and mind.

“We will fix your body. Then we’ll leave this place, and work on your mind and your soul. Everything changed today, everything for the better.” He spoke in soothing tones, letting his voice aid him in providing a sense of calm to Dean.

The door opened suddenly. Sam released Dean’s hand and started to move back, looking at the newcomer. At first he’d thought it was the doctor, but it appeared to be an orderly. The man was short, even by normal standard, but his arms were bulked up like they’d been pumped with air. He had a square jaw and thick lips that he was licking.

Dismissing him from his thoughts, Sam turned back to Dean and faltered. There was sheer terror in his eyes, and his hands were clutching at the bars on the side of his bed. “Dean?”

* * *

Dean hadn’t been sure what to think about the other man’s… angel’s… answer. When was the last time anyone had ever said they… loved him… and meant it? He didn’t think his own mother had said that in years. But when Samuel said it he almost… believed him…

The young man closed his eyes, taking a shallow shuddering breath, fighting back tears when the angel leaned down and kissed his forehead. He didn’t… know what to think. He opened his eyes, staring up at the angel in a mixture of confusion and almost wonder.

Everything just seemed so. Surreal. It was the only word he could think to describe it. Maybe none of this was real? Maybe it was all a dream? If it was a dream, Dean knew he never wanted to wake up from it. He wanted to believe him. So badly. But he was afraid to.

Nothing good had ever happened to him, and he was terrified to believe in it now just to have it torn away.

Hearing the door open, Dean reluctantly looked away from Sam and felt himself grow instantly cold when he saw who entered his room. His already pale skin going white as a sheet.

Rick… The orderly had been working here almost as long as Dean himself had been here, and the older man had taken a… liking… to Dean. Which meant the man liked to touch him. Usually when Dean was so drugged up that he could barely remain conscious much less fight back, and who would believe him if he told them what Rick did to him? Dean was crazy after all…

Dean’s heart monitor began to beep faster and Rick looked at it and chuckled, locking the door behind him, and smiling at him in a way that was anything but kind as he approached his bed.

“Dean, Dean, Dean…” Rick shook his head, making a soft tsking noises. “That was quite a stunt you pulled last night, boy. The doctors ain’t too happy with you right now.”

The man was standing right next to his bed now, and Dean couldn’t take his terrified eyes off of him. There was nothing he could do to stop Rick from doing anything he wanted to him now. He was too weak, even to call for help, and the older man knew it. Boldly reaching out to put a hand on Dean’s leg, running it up the length and squeezing his thigh.

“I admit. I was a little upset myself. Was looking forward to coming to visit you this morning after they had you all doped up for your surgery. But no reason we can’t have a little fun now, right?” The man chuckled again as he leaned down kiss the boy. Grabbing Dean’s face roughly so he couldn’t turn away.

* * *

A cold draft swept across the room the moment Samuel understood what was happening. He put a hand on the orderly's shoulder, about to force him to forget about Dean and leave, and then he was struck full force by the memories and images of what lurked in the man's mind.

*

_Lust. Blood red, insatiable lust that had started eating away at his soul the minute he'd seen Dean as a boy. He'd been sent to the boys room to clean up vomit, and found him in his light blue pajamas, crying on the bed with a stuffed animal in his arms._

_Watching the boy's hand clutch the bear, squeeze it, Rick's cock twitched. The longer he watched, the harder he got. The more sure he was that he wasn't going to leave this room without getting off.  
_  
*

Sam's mind reeled, his eyes teared at the thought of the child's face pushed into the stuffed animal… the screams it stifled.

*

_Once again, Dean had caused so much trouble, he was placed in a straight jacket. It was after hours, and no one was around. Smirking, Rick entered the sound proof padded cell._

_"Dean, Dean, Dean… you've been a bad boy, haven't you?" The teen's look of terror immediately had blood rushing to Rick's cock, filling it. "We're gonna have us some fun, boy."_

_One step at a time, he approached as Dean walked backwards until he hit a wall. "Nowhere to go. It's just me and the crazy. Come to papa." His laughter had the teen shaking like a leaf. Slamming his hands on the wall on either side of Dean's body, Rick pressed up against him. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard it'll tear you apart. You got that, Dean-o" he rubbed his thickening cock against Dean, and started panting. "Open your mouth. I said open your fucking mouth."_

_He hated that look of rebellion, that refusal. Pulling his hand back, he slapped the kid. "Fucking open it." He slapped him again, this time a backhand… had him bleeding from the nose, until he got what he wanted. Then he took what he wanted, crushing his mouth against 'little crazy's' and ramming his tongue down his throat. Fuck… what was it about this kid? Fucking against him, he managed to shove his hand into his pajamas and started to fondle the kids cock._

_Dean's muffled cries just inflamed him. He stepped back and pulled his belt off. "One false move, and you know I'll this," he snarled. He pulled his zipper down and turned Dean around to face the wall. The way the kids shoulders shook as he cried, the way his ass clenched in anticipation of his breach… fuck, this would make him hard for days on end. Every time he watched the vid… He glanced at the video camera he'd set up near the door._

_He turned back and shoved Dean's straight jacket up his body. Then he closed his arms around him, pulling him up against his thick hard cock and bucking against him. "I've got a present for you. Ask for it. Tell me to fuck you," he ordered, closing his eyes. He knew he was making Dean claustrophobic, overpowering him, and God above… it made him crazy with need._

_The sound of sobs filled the air._

_"I said ask me to fuck you. ASK." Grabbing Dean by the jacket, he kept smashing him up against the wall until a soft voice started to plead to be fucked. "What's that boy…"_

_Over and over, he asked to be fucked. Rick aligned his cock and bucked inside the boy in one thrust, and then he was fucking to the sound of the pleas, burning, needing, taking… "yeah… that's it… keep begging…that's…"  
_  
*

Samuel recoiled, his eyes were as black as the night.

"Dean… I'll stop him. He won't hurt you, I swear but…" Dear God above, could he do this? Allow this? He sent up a prayer, and moved his head in front of Rick's, blocking him from Dean's view. "I need him to do something more incriminating… to get a little farther. Please trust me."

He stepped back and pulled out his cell phone. Though he tried to separate himself from the situation, he felt tainted by Rick's needs, and the waves of fear from Dean were almost unbearable. "Trust me."

And then he did one of the hardest things he'd ever done, he stood by and watched as the brute ravaged Dean's mouth. He gritted his teeth as Rick's hands started to grope Dean. His aura started to glow white hot, as Rick shoved his fingertips into the elastic band of Dean's pajamas.

* * *

Dean sobbed softly as Rick forced his tongue into his mouth. Fighting the urge to gag, or worse, vomit, at the taste of the man. Because he’d done that once before and Rick had beaten him so black and blue he’d barely been able to move for days afterwards. Of course the doctors had just assumed he’d done it to himself. Strapped him down to his bed for days so he couldn’t move anyway, letting Rick do basically anything he wanted during that time…

He felt as helpless as he did then. As helpless as he always did whenever the evil man put his hands on him. Touched him. Forced him to do things that gave him nightmares for weeks after. But somehow it was worse now. Because…

He had wanted to believe, so badly, that Samuel was real. That he had come to help him. That he actually… cared… That _someone_ actually cared about him. Anyone…

But he wasn’t stopping him… he was just watching as…

Dean couldn’t stifle a cry of pain when the older man shoved his hand down the front of his pajamas, gripping him roughly, and the younger man began to struggle then. Trying to wrench his mouth free. His hands pushing weakly at his attacker, but he might as well have been a child again for all the good it did.

As Rick growled in anger, one hand going to his neck while the other grabbed one of his wrists, twisting and squeezing it hard. Wrenching a louder cry of pain from Dean’s lips as the man’s fingers cruelly dug into his wound, dots of blood already beginning to seep through the gauze wrapped around his arm.

The older man shoved him hard back against the bed, dazing him as he applied pressure to his throat.

“Don’t you dare pass out on me, boy.” Rick threatened, as he roughly forced him over onto his stomach. Nearly ripping out several tubes from Dean’s body in the process and yanking down the flimsy blue pajama bottoms Dean was wearing. The younger man shuddering in revulsion and sobbing into his pillow as he felt the other man’s hand on his ass.

* * *

The angel tried to mentally offer his comfort, but Dean’s mind was closed to him. He couldn’t get a response, even as he tried, and even when he moved close and touched his arm. The boy didn’t seem to sense his presence at all, not when he was under assault by a man who preyed on those who were weaker. He was no better than a vampire demon.

Sam snapped a picture on the cell phone. Precious seconds ticking away as he checked, and swore… earning himself a red mark for taking his father’s name in vain. "I’m sorry… So sorry, Dean… just another moment," he promised, his gut wrenching as he allowed his adopted ward to be manhandled.

There. He took another picture, this time the orderly’s face was clear. No one could mistake the lust and cruelty in his expression, or deny his hands were where they should not be. It took Sam a few more seconds to control his anger, he would never act in anger… should not.

And then he slapped his palm on Rick’s forehead, pushing him relentlessly backwards until they reached the door.

The orderly was stunned, and in slight pain from his neck being bent at an awkward angle. “What the fuck…” and then his head slammed against the door, and he forgot everything. An instant later, Sam unlocked the door and shoved him out.

When he returned to the bed, his eyes had gone back to hazel. He found Dean was a quivering mess, and once again he felt his eyes sting. “I’m sorry. Really, I am, it was the only way,” he said, pulling Dean’s pajamas up, and brushing his palm over his thighs, his ass, and even his penis, trying to eradicate the feel of Rick’s touch, to replace it with his own.

He fixed Dean’s pajama top, and leaned down, this time giving him a chaste kiss on the mouth. “That is the last time Rick touches you, I swear it. Last time.” Straightening, Sam looked back at his cell phone and started typing an email to the authorities, to the hospital, and to the local papers. Attached to the email were the pictures he’d snapped. He turned the phone over to Dean.

Sam knew the authorities would find incriminating videos at the man’s house… he would never be free. The most he could hope for was to save his soul, but with this type of evil lurking in his soul… being saved was a long shot.

“Press here, and send him to jail… for what he’s done to you and others.” He hoped this would give Dean back some control over the situation. “Dean,” he whispered, letting his voice wash over the boy. “You can do this. You can tell them what you’ve wanted to for years when no one listened. They can’t not listen to you now. Find your voice… find it inside you.”

* * *

At first, Dean didn’t even realize anything had changed. As laid there shaking with fear, his heart pounding so hard against his ribs he could barely hear anything else. Helpless tears staining his cheeks, he kept waiting to hear the sound of Rick’s belt unbuckling. Kept waiting to feel the older man climb up onto the bed with him. The man shoving him hard into the mattress. Practically suffocating him to muffle his screams, as he violated his body.

But the longer he waited. The longer it was silent. The longer it took for Rick’s hands to return to his body, the more confused he became.

When he finally did hear something, it wasn’t the orderly’s harsh demanding voice ordering him to ‘beg’ for it, as he had made Dean do so often. The voice was gentle and warm. Comforting. As were the hands that began to carefully pull his clothes back into place, and Dean found the courage to lift his head from the tear stained pillow. Almost afraid this was a trick of some kind, maybe of his own mind, maybe he was finally loosing it completely…

But he only saw Samuel. Rick was nowhere in the room, as far as Dean could see. The older man never would have stopped, never would have left on his own, until he’d gotten what he wanted without being forced to. Samuel must have stopped him… like he said he would… no ‘hallucination’ could have done that… he was real… an angel… and he was real…

Dean stared up at the angel, almost in wonder as Samuel’s hands moved over his body. Even as… intimate as the touches were, they didn’t frighten him. The angel touching him everywhere Rick had touched, but so different from the way the other man had touched him. Samuel’s fingers leaving only a warm almost… tingling… sensation wherever they brushed his skin. Making Dean almost forget memory of the other man’s hands on him.

The young man managed to roll over onto his side as Samuel readjusted his pajama top, making sure the various wires and tubes attached to him were no longer in danger of coming out. The kiss surprised him, but maybe even more surprising was the warmth that flowed into his cheeks once it was over. Though it would be hard to tell given his skin was a little flushed anyway from crying.

Dean sniffled and wiped at his face. Embarrassed now by the tears that continued to slip down his cheeks, even if they were more from relief now than anything else. Samuel must think he was a baby… even though the angel gave no outward sign of thinking that, what else would he think about a twenty four year old man sobbing like a child? If this had been a… test… of some kind, Dean was pretty sure he’d just failed it.

Biting his lip, the young man looked down and nodded slightly at Samuel’s promise. He could only hope… pray… it was true. Samuel had said he was going to take him away from here, but what if he’d changed his mind after…

The cell phone being pressed into his hands surprised Dean as much as the angel’s words, and he could only look up at Samuel, his mouth open a little in shock, before he stared back down at the phone in his hands. This was why…?

The picture made Dean tremble a little involuntarily, but it was something he’d never had before. Proof. Of what Rick had done to him for years, and no one had ever listened. He was too much of a ‘troublemaker’. Always seeing things that weren’t real. No one had ever believed him… God… if Rick knew he had this, knew what he was about to do, he would kill him. No doubt about it, the older man would find him, torture him, and kill him…

But even if the man did find out, he would still go to jail. He would be punished. Locked away forever, where he couldn’t hurt anyone else…

Dean swallowed hard as he pressed the button to send the mail, watched as the phone confirmed it was sent, and it slipped from his fingers a moment later as Dean all but collapsed back in his bed. His struggle with Rick had completely exhausted his already weak body, not to mention the emotional overload he’d suffered through the last several… minutes… god it had only been minutes since he’d woken up and it felt like hours. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he was almost afraid if he closed them Samuel might disappear and never come back, despite what he’d said.

The young man reached out weakly to the angel, tired eyes pleading. Though not only with his hand. Dean reached out to him same way he had reached out, and found Samuel’s light, his warmth, even in the pits of hell. The same way he had unknowingly reached out, desperately, after cutting his wrists, and like a miracle Samuel had heard him. Had come for him…

* * *

Sam felt the soft mental brush of Dean’s mind before feeling the tired worry and panic behind it, the plea. _I’m right here. I’ll be right here when you wake._ Giving Dean a serene smile, Sam took his hand again, and held it until Dean stopped fighting and closed his eyes.

For the next two weeks, Sam never left the room. When nurses came, he made sure they were gentle with Dean. When they left, he did their jobs for them, helped him to the bathroom, and made sure he was neither over nor under sedated.

During that time, they spoke a little. Sometimes through their mental connection. Sometimes in the usual way, but he was never sure how much of it stayed with Dean. He had been under some powerful drugs, though he’d been weaned off them now.

When Dean’s eyes cracked open, Sam raised the back of his hospital bed to a sitting position. “Mornin’ sleepy. Today’s the first day of the rest of your life. I know it’s corny, but also true,” he grinned. When a nurse walked in, he nodded toward her. “She’s going to shave you and get you ready.” Squeezing his shoulder one more time, he released him. “I have to leave now, but I’ll be back sooner than you think. And then we’ll leave here, together. Trust me.”

Though he sensed the turmoil from his adopted ward, Sam left him behind and walked out. He knew this nurse, and she was one of the nicer ones and would be gentle with Dean. Because he’d promised never to leave his post, he hadn’t before. But now, he needed to make arrangements if he wanted them to leave in a way in which no one would be after Dean.

* * *

As he had for the past two weeks, Dean woke to the sound of Sam's warm voice. The angel's gentle eyes and warm smile the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. Just as they were the last thing he saw when he closed them for sleep, and the young man couldn't help the smile that formed on his own face in return, looking up at Samuel as the angel helped him sit up. Because the last two weeks had been so unlike the last twelve years of his life…

For the first time he could remember he was genuinely happy.

When Samuel had told him everything would be different, to be honest the young man hadn't really known what that would mean. For starters, the angel never left his side. Not even for a second. Samuel's presence was like a warm blanket of comfort always wrapped around him, keeping him safe from anything cold or dark or painful.

He didn't let the nurses or doctors hurt him. Even the ones Dean knew were usually rough and didn't like him. Samuel even helped him with most of the things that the nurses were meant to do. Since Dean still didn't like people touching him, even if they were gentle, though he didn't mind it when Samuel touched him. The angel always far more gentle than anyone else ever had, or ever could be.

Dean trusted him.

Samuel had even gone through his medication every time they brought it, only letting him take some of it. Dean had been jittery and anxious the first couple of days because of that, going through mild withdrawal. But Samuel had held him and talked him through the worst of it, and after the first week he'd been able to think much more clearly without the fog that always seemed to be wrapped around his brain.

Rick had never come back. Not once. Just as Samuel promised and that perhaps had been what Dean was most thankful for. He never wanted to see that man again. He wished he could forget about him entirely. Though he was afraid that would never happen and he would always have nightmares about what that man had done to him during half his life here.

At least these few days, with Samuel watching over him every second, he hadn't had any nightmares. That was another thing he almost couldn't remember having. Good dreams. These last two weeks had been almost like a dream, all his life before one long nightmare. Dean was so afraid he was going to wake up from his dream… or worse go back to the nightmare…

So when Samuel implied that today was the day they would leave the hospital, Dean couldn't hide the surprise as well as joy he felt at that news. It had been hard to imagine leaving this place at all, much less, being able to leave so soon. Though he was still a little weak from his attempted suicide, the doctors had taken him off the monitors a while ago, because it was obvious he was stable now and Dean was ready to jump out of the bed right that second. He didn't even care where Samuel took him as long as it was away from this place.

But Dean frowned a little when the nurse came in, and Samuel told him that _she_ was going to get him ready. The frown turning into a look of almost fear, even with the angel's comforting hand on his shoulder, when Samuel said he was… leaving…

Dean remembered at twelve years old, clinging to his father desperately and sobbing at the end of his parent's visits. Refusing to let go of the older man even as the nurses tried to pry him off, pull him away, and those near exact words coming from his father's lips. Even then Dean had known they were a lie. Eventually he had stopped clinging to his father. Stopped begging to come home. Finally his parents had stopped coming back…

He could only pray that this time… the words were not a lie because Dean knew he wouldn't survive Samuel abandoning him the same way.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam passed through the long hospital halls, cringing at times at the sounds of pain that echoed from the wall. Old pains, new ones, hurts, hopelessness and despair. Asylums and hospitals were always filled with these sorts of vibes, but unlike in this place, they were balanced by healing, caring, hope and faith. It was as if all the good had been wrung from this place. He could also taste the taint of evil... true evil in the air. Things lurked here... demons.  


  
He reached the patient file room, and pushed the locked door open. His hair was ruffled by the wind that swept inside behind him, before he closed it. Moving down the long aisles of steel cabinets, he read alphabetical listings until he reach the one which would house 'Winchester." Pulling the drawer open, he sifted through several Winchester's and pulled Dean's file.

Taking it with him to a nearby desk, he opened it. Reading the early entries was painful. Reading the later ones which showed he barely had visitors, and that his siblings had stopped coming within the first few years of his... what else should he call it but incarceration... Sam wanted once again to cry for the young man. For the young boy who'd grown into a man, without love, without care, and who had known nothing but tongue and physical lashings, in between over medication and being told he was crazy. But Sam felt his spirit... and it was strong, and pure... and he was going to save Dean, from here and from eternal hell.

Taking the pen out of a holder, he started editing the original application papers. By the time he was done, Dean had acquired a brother by the name of Samuel, one that had in recent years been named legal guardian to Dean. With each stroke of the pen telling a falsehood, Sam earned another scarlet mark on his mostly pristine wings.

*

Dressed in black jeans, a gray tee-shirt and sneakers, Sam walked into the Asylum lobby. This time, he was fully visible and immediately had the attention of the staff. The two receptionists were falling all over themselves to be the one to help him. He just patiently smiled and waited until they sorted themselves out, and then announced he was there to check Dean Winchester out of their care.

Two hospital administrators came out to speak with him. He used every power of persuasion available to him, letting his voice wash over them, giving them all the right answers, and putting on the charm when it seemed to be required. He wanted this to be done today. Not tomorrow. Not after they made a few phone calls, but now.

Eventually, one of them escorted him back to Dean's room. She brought an empty wheelchair with her, even though that was the job of an orderly. Sam wasn't surprised though, he just accepted it as a fact of his life.

When they entered Dean's room, Sam's face lit up. "Here to take you home," he said grinning.

"Yes, your brother is taking you to Europe for treatment. I hope you realize how lucky you are and you're grateful. You know how—"

Sam touched her arm. "I don't think this is the time for a lecture."

"No, of course not," she nodded in agreement. "After you've dropped him off, will we be seeing you again? I mean, he's been at this facility a long time, and we have many events, let me tell you about—"

Gently, he pried her hand off his arm. "I don't think so, but I appreciate your efforts. I'll take him now."

"Well I... I can push the wheelchair."

Laughing, Sam shook his head no, and went to help the now dressed and shaved Dean off the bed. "You did mention how busy you are and I wouldn't want to keep you from work. Besides, I think it would be easier for Dean if we did this alone." Just like that, he dismissed her.

* * *

Dean had always hated it when they shaved him.

When he had grown old enough to start growing a beard, it had just been another reason for them to touch him, and he hated it. He didn’t like being touched for any reason, and there had been no way around that, because of course they wouldn’t give crazy people sharp objects, so he was forced to let them do it for him.

Most of the time the nurses were quick and efficient about it, but if it was one of the ones who didn’t like him sometimes he’d end up with cuts on his face. It was probably a wonder he didn’t have more scars on his face.

Though this nurse had been surprisingly gentle when shaving him. Even when helping him into his clean white hospital clothes, since he still couldn’t move very well on his own. He still hadn’t liked it, and Dean had been glad when she left. He wished Samuel hadn’t left, and took care of him instead. He wished Samuel would come back…

He was getting more and more nervous every minute he was away. Dean wanted to reach out, like he had done before when he’d first ‘called’ Samuel, as the angel put it, but he didn’t really understand how. He was still getting used to learning how to ‘talk’ to Samuel through the ‘connection’ between them. Which had been useful when the nurses came to check up on him so they wouldn’t see him talking to himself, but he didn’t know how to do it ‘long distance’.

What if he didn’t come back? He’d said he would come back… but what if he didn’t? Dean’s own parents had abandoned him here. Practically forgetting him. He wondered if they’d even been told he had tried to kill himself. He wondered if they would have even come then to claim him, even to bury him…

Dean blinked back tears at that thought, wanting even more for Samuel to return, in fact he was about ready to try to ‘reach out’ to the angel when he heard the voices outside his door. Then Samuel was there and the young man couldn’t hide his relief upon seeing him, even as he was surprised by the angel’s change of attire, not to mention that one of the hospital administrators had come with him and apparently she could actually _see_ Samuel.

_Here to take you home._

Oh god, he never thought he would ever hear those words. Never. Dean’s eyes flickered briefly to the administrator, unable to hide his surprise when she said his ‘brother’ was taking him away. Brother? How had he managed that?

Even in his confusion Dean found himself frowning a little at the woman’s obvious attempts to flirt with Samuel. She had never liked Dean, at all. So hearing her offer to ‘push’ him in the wheelchair made him almost angry, but at least Samuel didn’t seemed too pleased with her advances either, and firmly dismissed her.

Once she was gone, Dean did what he wanted to do from the moment he saw Samuel return. Throwing his arms around the angel’s neck and hugging onto him tightly, all the fear that Samuel wouldn’t return for him bleeding away in an instant followed by so much relief it made him feel weak.

“Thank you…” He whispered against the angel’s neck, hugging him a little tighter.

* * *

Sam closed his arms around Dean, enveloping him in his embrace for as long as he needed. “Most people would have said ‘about time’ or ‘where were you when I needed you?’” Taking a deep breath, Sam briefly wondered at the strength of the protective feelings stirring with him. “Forgive me. If I had known...” Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against Dean’s temple, wishing he could change the past. Then he kissed Dean’s cheek, and lead him to the wheel chair.

Bending down, he pulled the footrests out and helped Dean get situated. “I know you don’t need this, but under the hospital’s regulations, you have to be wheeled out. It’s for liability reasons, in case you hurt yourself on the way out.” He gave a very un-angelic snort, thinking about all the hurt they’d put Dean through at this place. “Are you ready? Good.”

Moving behind the wheel chair, Sam pushed it out of the room. The hallway was brightly lit and a bit busy with nurses. He moved Dean closer to the wall, putting as much space between them and the others as possible.

The hallway split, with arrows indicating the way to the main lobby and to the asylum facilities. He pushed into the asylum’s darker hallway, and walking as fast as he could. The sounds and smells in this area would be only too familiar to Dean, and he didn’t want the boy re-traumatized. If only the administrator had told him about the last step before they left before they’d reached Dean’s room, he would have taken care of this himself. Instead, he knocked on the door of an office, and then pushed Dean inside.

They knew he was checking out, so they had a small package ready. It was a cloth pouch, sort of bulky. “This is what you came with. It’s your property,” Sam explained, signing the property release form. He had no idea whether there was anything important in it, or whether Dean would even want the trip down memory lane. But he didn’t want to make the decision for Dean.

Soon he was wheeling him back toward the hospital lobby when he felt something even before it rounded the corner and stood at the other end of the hall, pointing a finger and shouting that that patient was not to leave. Sam could see it clearly ... could see the demon, and he knew Dean would too. Squeezing Dean’s shoulder, he whispered, “close your eyes. Keep them closed, and I’ll handle this.”

Walking in front of the wheel chair, Sam pointed right back at the demon. “He doesn’t belong to you. He leaves with me.” According to the rules of engagement, Sam could not send the demon to hell unless he was attacked, there was a possession, or the battle was by order of his superiors.

Without warning, the demon’s body contorted into a bald creature, all teeth and nails. Giving an inhuman screech, he started to run toward Dean and Sam.

Samuel shifted just as suddenly, his powerful wings spreading wide as he started to run toward the demon, Arms stretched wide, he chanted powerful ancient prayers in Latin, and in tongues long forgotten. The ground shook under his strides, the wind kicked up... at first cool and fresh, and then hot and getting hotter.

_“Sancte Michael Archangele,  
defende nos in proelio.”_

A ring of fire sprang up, surrounding them. The demon spat black liquid, and shouted its own prayers to Satan, as they circled each other. Invisible forces began to pound first on the demon, then on Sam, who recoiled, and moved forward again. “Get thee to hell,” he shouted, sending a wall of burning hot air into the demon whose flesh started to peel off.

It started to fight in earnest, scrambling to get its hand on Sam. Scratches appeared first on Sam’s right cheek, then on his left, but he continued to advance, raising his voice as a portal to hell opened behind the demon.  
 _  
”Contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.  
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:  
tuque, Princeps militiae caelestis,  
Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,  
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,  
divina virtute, in infernum detrude.”_

 

The demon was sucked into hell, and the portal closed. Sam fell to his knees, arms raised to the heavens.

_”Amen”_   


* * *

Dean blushed a little at the angel's words, but he was simply too relieved that Samuel had returned for him to be too embarrassed. All of his tension and fear melting away in Samuel's embrace, and the young man thought he would have been content to stay just like this forever.

No one had ever cared for him before. Genuinely cared, and Samuel had shown him more caring and compassion in two weeks than anyone had shown him during his whole life. So he didn't understand at all why the angel was… apologizing…

Dean wasn't stupid. He knew there was a lot he didn't know, or understand. Especially about the world 'out there' and how 'normal' people acted. But as naïve as he may be, he knew right then that he loved Samuel. He loved him more than he'd ever loved anyone. The feeling so overwhelming it made him almost giddy, and he couldn't stop the blush from flowing into his cheeks when Samuel kissed him again softly.

He wanted to kiss Samuel back, but he was too shy to act on the impulse.

A light blush was still staining his cheeks a little as the angel helped him into the wheelchair, but Dean was grinning from ear to ear. So excited he could barely sit still in the chair as Samuel pushed him out of the room and down the hallway.

The two 'brothers' certainly made quite the sight walking down the hallway together. Well, one walking, one being pushed. Some of the nurses that knew Dean stopping to actually stare at him as they passed because they almost couldn't believe this was the same young man who'd lived in the institution for twelve years of his life. His eyes bright and happy and he was smiling. When had they ever actually seen him smile?

Though his smile faltered a bit when they went into the asylum area. If there was one place Dean never wanted to return to, that was it. But they only went into the office area, not back to where the cells were, though it was still hard for the young man to relax until Samuel was once more pushing him back out in the hallway heading towards the hospital's exit.

The small bag they'd given him laid unopened on Dean's lap. He knew exactly what was inside of it. After all, he had never been able to forget that day his parents had left him here. They hadn't even told him where they were going when they put him in the car. It could have been to the movies, or to the mall, for all the twelve year old boy had known.

He had brought his favorite batman action figure with him to play with. His other pockets stuffed with various things a child never really seemed to take out of their pockets. A few baseball cards. Some loose change he'd been collecting that he could put into a vending machine for some sweets if his mother let him.

There was nothing inside of it he wanted or needed. In fact, he was prepared to throw the whole bag into the first trash can he came across. He didn't want to remember anything about that old life. That life had ended when he 'died'. His new life started today, with Samuel…

Dean was torn out of his thoughts when he heard the shout from down the hall, his heart already seizing with fear, recognizing the voice, even before he lifted his eyes to see the hospital director. The man… monster… just as grotesque as Dean remembered. This was why he had been called crazy his whole life. Because he saw things like _this_ but being told he was not insane didn't make him any less afraid of what he saw. In fact, it scared him even more.

He heard Samuel tell him to close his eyes. Look away. But he… couldn't… Not when Samuels stood in front of him like a shield, and then the Director… demon… attacked. Dean couldn't have torn his eyes away even if he wanted to. Watching the battle with equal measures of fascination and horror. Watching as an angel and a demon fought over _him_.

The battle was fierce and horrific, but it was also brief. It had to be, or someone surely would have come running to investigate. The second the demon disappeared, and Samuel dropped to his knees, Dean was out of the chair in an instant. Running to the angel, dropping to his knees in front of him, and throwing his arms around him in a crushing embrace.

"Samuel… oh god… what… Are you ok…?"

* * *

Sam blinked in surprise when he felt the fierce hug. He’d been sure that the sounds of the battle, would scare Dean into a state. Now he had the feeling the boy had been watching.

“By the grace of God, I’m fine,” he rubbed Dean’s back to sooth him. “Your heart is beating so hard I can feel it. You were afraid... for me...” he said in wonder, detangling himself after a minute. “Look... I’m healing...” he concentrated and angry red marks on his face and arms disappeared.

As he stood up, he pulled Dean up with him. Turning his head slightly, he saw that the red slashes on his wings were gone... his wings were as white as snow once again. Each good deed countered a misdeed.

Putting one arm around Dean’s back, he started to walk toward the wheel chair. When they arrived, he kicked it away. “Stupid rule. Let’s get out of here.”

Though Dean was by no means short, Sam shortened his strides to be sure he didn’t strain him. Once they were outside in the sun, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the expression on Dean’s pale face. “You were meant for outdoors,” the angel said, very sure of himself. “Now... I hope you’re not afraid of flying.”

Before Dean could answer, Samuel hauled Dean up into his arms. The wind stirred around them, making the fallen leaves twirl in a large circle around them. With a single beat of his wings, Sam had them climbing up toward the sky, and away from that dreadful, dreadful place.

* * *

Dean began to relax when Samuel assured him he was all right, the gentle hand rubbing his back calming him, though his heart continued to beat hard and fast in his chest for a little while longer. Of course he had been afraid for Samuel. If anything had happened to him…

Dean’s stomach clenched in fear at the very thought, and it wasn’t fear for himself. Without a second thought he would have gone back to the asylum, back to Rick, back to everything if his ‘freedom’ meant Samuel being hurt or worse. No. He wasn’t worth that. He didn’t want the angel to ever fight for him like that again. Dean simply couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him…

He relaxed a little more however when Samuel showed him the cuts on his face and arms healing, right before his eyes, and Dean offered the angel a relieved smile. Letting the angel help him up, and smiling when Samuel didn’t remove his arm from around him. Even laughing softly when the angel kicked the wheelchair away, glad that Samuel wasn’t going to make him sit in it again. He liked this much better anyway.

Once they were outside, Dean couldn’t really describe the feeling. It was like… a dark suffocating weight was suddenly thrown off of him and he could finally breathe for the first time in twelve years. The sun on his face somehow warmer, brighter now that he wasn’t looking at it from behind barred windows. It was… beautiful…

Though not as beautiful as the angel beside him, and Dean found himself blushing again at Samuel’s compliment. Smiling shyly, before his expression changed to mild confusion at the angel’s comment about ‘flying’.

Oh, no he wasn’t…

But a second later Dean found himself held tightly in the angel’s arms, and he let out a very unmanly shriek when they were suddenly air born. Dean clinging to Samuel so tightly he was probably nearly choking the angel. Hiding his face against Samuel’s chest.

He hadn’t known whether or not he was afraid of flying before, but he was pretty sure he was now.

* * *

Laughing, Sam held Dean closer. “I won’t let you fall, not ever again.” He tried to peer into his face but Dean had it pressed so tight against his chest that it was impossible.

They flew in silence for a while and then Sam started to point out major landmarks, slowing only for a few moments at a time before accelerating the beat of his wings so they moved at incredible speeds again. Whether or not Dean looked, he would absorb what he said, and it might calm him.

As they neared the West Coast, he told Dean where they were going. “I live in San Francisco. It’s a busy, noisy city, very full of life. If it gets too overwhelming, let me know. We can find a quieter place if necessary. But if you give it a chance, I think you might come to love it like I do.”

He knew that the patients at the Asylum had a lot of television time, and that was one of the reasons Dean knew quite a bit of what was out there in the big wide world. But he wondered about his education. How well he could read and write. His math skills. Things they could take care of one step at a time.

“Look, that’s the Pacific ocean,” he said, pointing at the endless blue waters as they slowed, and then dropped down into an alley in the City. He held Dean up for a few minutes, until he was sure the boys legs worked again, then he released him.

“Alright. One quick stop, and then we’ll be home,” he promised. Walking close to him, at times putting his hand behind his back, he took the least crowded streets. However, there was no such thing as an empty street in San Francisco, so he tried to keep Dean occupied by talking to him.

When they reached the storefront to an Abercrombie & Fitch store, Sam opened the door. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

Twenty minutes later, they came out with packages in their hands. Sam hung back a little, smiling as he admired the cut of the blue jeans hugging Dean’s ass and showing off his figure like hospital gear couldn’t. When Dean looked back, Sam shook his head. “Innocent ogling, I swear.” Ugh, he had to cut the swearing, and he knew it...

They climbed up a steep street, and reached the little restaurant. True to form, Daryl and Sarah ran out. This time, instead of staring at Sam, they were looking at Dean.

Sam quickly introduced them, and waited for them to fall over each other to tell him the desserts of the day. “I think we’ll stick with the brownie and ice cream, missed it the other night. Make it two.”

Putting his hand behind Dean’s back, he walked him the few feet to the entrance to the lobby of his apartment, and grinned as the waiter and waitress argued once again.

“I told you he’s gay,” Daryl smirked.

“That could be his... his... friend. Relative...brother...”

“Brother... Uh huh.”

“Upstairs, third floor,” Sam said, following close behind Dean, then stopping in front of a door. He unlocked it and let him inside the sunny apartment with several bay windows and lots and lots of books. “This is home.”

* * *

The flight had been… interesting…

In the terrifying sort of way. It wasn't that he didn't trust Samuel. Or think that the angel would drop him. It was just… very high, and Samuel was flying very fast, and… what if they ran into an airplane or something?

Next time, Dean was definitely going to suggest they take the train, or bus, or something… What was wrong with simply driving?

Samuel's efforts did help him to relax a little however. Enough that the young man dared to lift his head a few times to see where they were going, though that usually didn't last very long because they were moving so fast the wind stung his eyes terribly. But some of the sights the angel tried pointing out to him were interesting. Like the Grand Canyon… he doubted anyone else had ever gotten the view quite like he was getting.

Mostly Dean was comfortable with his original position, his face pressed tightly against the warmth of Samuel's chest. Then before he knew it the angel was pointing out the _ocean_ to him and the young man lifted his head out of sheer surprise. After all, they hadn't been flying _that_ long, and they'd traveled over more than half the length of the United States. Just how fast had Samuel been flying? How fast _could_ he fly?

Dean's questions were forgotten however when he yelped, clutching to the angel even tighter, as Samuel started descending just as fast as they had risen into the air, and that was a heck of a lot worse. Soon they were on the ground, and when Samuel put him down on his feet Dean seriously had to resist the urge to drop down and kiss the ground.

When his heart finally slowed to a more natural rhythm and he could stand on his own once more, Samuel finally released him completely. Though he raised a questioning eyebrow when the angel said they were going to be making a stop before they went home. Home…

Dean couldn't help grinning from ear to ear just hearing the word, and he eagerly stepped out of the alley with the angel. His eyes widening a little when he got his first good look at San Francisco.

Samuel hadn't been kidding about the busy and noisy part. Not that the asylum had been a 'quiet' place, but it just wasn't the same and Dean had grown up in a small town before being committed. The kind of town where everyone pretty much knew everyone else, if only by sight, and seeing so many… people… so many strangers…

Crowds had always made Dean a little nervous. If only because he tended to have more 'hallucinations' when there were a lot of people around. But walking close to Samuel, listening to the angel talk, and the warm hand on his back relaxed him. When they finally stopped in front of a clothing store, he could only stare at the angel in surprise for a moment, but he followed him inside.

After a few frustrating minutes, because Dean had no idea what pant or shirt size he wore. The hospital had always just given him clothes and he put them on without really questioning it. They managed to find him some jeans that fit him well, and Samuel picked out several pairs in similar styles, as well as shirts in a variety of colors. Waving off Dean's objections that they were too much money.

The clerk even allowed him to wear one outfit out of the store, and Dean had to admit he didn't feel so out of place once they stepped outside now that he was no longer in the hospital whites he'd left the asylum in. When he turned around to ask Samuel where they were going next, he was surprised to find the angel checking him out, and a blush instantly sprouted to his cheeks. Smiling shyly, he felt his stomach flutter a little, in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. He walked a little bit closer to Samuel after that, even though it wasn't because he was uncomfortable.

Dean was more than a little surprised when they passed by the restaurant and the waiter and waitress ran out to greet Samuel. The young man moved a little bit closer to the angel, even though he smiled politely as Samuel introduced them. Staying quiet while the angel spoke to them. They seemed nice at least, but Dean just wasn't used to talking to people.

Then, finally, they were home.

The young man couldn't help but stop and stare in the entrance way, his mouth open slightly. He'd had absolutely no idea what to expect. None. But he was still surprised. He still couldn't believe… this was where he was going to live? With Samuel? The apartment could have been a palace as far as Dean was used to.

Dean was almost afraid to step inside. But a gentle push against his back was all the encouragement he needed.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder at the angel before stepping over the threshold into the living room. There was a big wall mounted flat screen TV on the wall, below it an entertainment center with a DVD player, CD player, and stereo. Shelves with CD's and DVD's on either side. In front of it a big looking leather couch Dean just wanted to flop right down on to see if it was as comfortable as it looked, but there was simply too much else to see for him to stop there.

There were a lot of bookshelves. A lot of books, that didn't really hold Dean's interest except noticing how old some of them looked.

Walking over to the large windows, the sunlight spilling through and warming his skin, Dean looked out over an incredible view of the shops and restaurants below. Beyond them a large park he wondered if Samuel would let him go down there some time.

Turning away from the view outside, he looked in one doorway, seeing a dining area and big kitchen. Another doorway had a bathroom with a big shower and separate Jacuzzi like _tub_ and he couldn't even _remember_ the last time he'd had a bath. Oh, he had to take one tonight. He hoped Samuel would let him…

Practically bouncing on his toes as he continued his exploration he looked in yet another door to find, as he expected, a bedroom. A huge king sized bed, midnight blue sheets covered with a down comforter, that the young man just wanted to curl up in. The last room down the hall was another bedroom, smaller than the first, a queen sized bed not yet made up, and Dean finally turned to look at Samuel.

"Is this my room?" He asked, almost in awe of the words coming out of his mouth.

His room…

* * *

Sam stood leaning against the wall, watching Dean move around the room. He had the most expressive face he'd ever seen and each time his face lit up, it took Sam's breath away. One moment he was all man, with that deep voice of his, and the next… still a kid. That innocent quality shone so strong that Sam couldn't understand how so many had been so unkind to him. He wasn't thinking of the orderly either, or the director, he meant the general staff. He was so gentle, and clearly starved for affection. He'd have to toughen up though, to live in this world. It was only one of the things Sam would help him learn. But not today.

When Dean walked down the hall, Sam pushed off the wall and followed him. He didn't want to miss a minute of this. The boy's every reaction was a gift. It was the loss of all of the staff at the asylum that they didn't realize it.

When he asked if the room was his, Sam nodded. "It's yours. I'll make the bed up today, but starting tomorrow… it's your job. Let's see, you probably want something in pink," he teased, laughing at Dean's reaction.

Crossing to the closet, he pulled out some green and beige bedding with a safari motif. The green made him think of Dean's eyes, which he glanced at as he started to fix the bed. There was no doubt in Sam's mind, Dean would soon have the girls buzzing around him. And this being San Francisco, he foresaw a lot of guys as well. He hoped that Dean would adjust easily to mixing with people and would pick up the social skills he'd never had to practice before.

Once again, getting caught staring, he gave an offhand laugh. "Innocent admiration, I swear." Dammit. Double d… Okay, it was time to re-center and stop swearing, like right now.

"There we go, ready for you whenever you're tired. You just got out of the hospital, so if you need a rest, just… you know… take one." He left the room and returned with the clothes they'd bought, and started putting them away. "I know you probably had a routine at the… where you were. You might feel odd not having to go strictly by the clock, but we'll find something that works for you, okay? Me, for example… I wake up, I get coffee, read a couple of papers… If I have work, I take care of it. If I don't, I find ways to fill the day. I'm boring you," he grinned. "You'll see anyway."

Walking to the door, he turned. "Whenever you're ready, I can show you how to turn on the t.v. or the stereo equipment. I'm gonna make something to eat, you must be hungry. I usually eat up on the roof, but we can eat inside today. Then there's that dessert we can pick up from downstairs… we can have it later on. It tastes like heaven." Nodding to emphasize his cheesy comment, Sam headed for the kitchen.

* * *

Dean made a face, wrinkling his nose in disgust, when Samuel suggested _pink_ for his bed. He knew the angel was only teasing him, he wasn’t a girl, after all, but he might have had to hit Samuel with a pillow if he seriously put pink sheets on his bed.

When the angel said it would be his ‘job’ to make his bed from now on, Dean watched carefully as Samuel did it. He wanted to make sure he did it correctly when it was his turn, after all. He didn’t want Samuel disappointed in him.

Though when the angel stopped what he was doing suddenly, just staring at him, Dean tilted his head to the side curiously under the regard. Beaming a little when Samuel said he was merely admiring him, and feeling that now familiar fluttering in his stomach again.

When the angel left the room, Dean couldn’t resist flopping down on the newly made bed. Giving a soft sigh as he sank into the soft mattress, and though he felt much too excited right now to really sleep it felt so good just to lay there he almost didn’t want to move.

Simply watching from his sprawled out position as Samuel returned with the bags he’d almost forgotten about with his clothes and started putting them away for him.

Dean actually listened quite intently while Samuel spoke about his normal routine. It sounded much more… relaxed… than what Dean was used to. But he was actually pondering what the angel meant by ‘work’. What kind of job did he have? Like a regular job? He wondered what he would do when Samuel left for his ‘work’…

Before he could ask though, Samuel changed the subject. Talking about food, and Dean found was indeed hungry. He hadn’t even realized it until now, but at the mention of food his stomach decided to growl loudly right then. Making the young man laugh a little in embarrassment, even as he rolled his eyes a little at the angel’s comments about the deserts.

Well, if anyone would know, it would be him…

The young man pushed himself up from the bed almost reluctantly and followed after Samuel like a puppy into the kitchen. Trying not to get in the way, at the same time watching over the angel’s shoulder as he prepared their lunch.

* * *

Sam moved around the kitchen with the efficiency of a man who’d been cooking for himself for aeons. He chopped and mixed and grilled, with Dean watching everything he did and asking questions. “Here, I’m going to put you to work.” He brought the cutting board over and showed Dean how to slice the baguette. He only felt a little trepidation when he gave him the knife, but forced himself to trust.

Very quickly, the smell of food permeated the air and the growls from Dean’s stomach grew louder and had Samuel laughing out loud. “I like having you here,” he admitted, tossing the salad. Though he met and spoke to a lot of people, it wasn’t very often he had company in his apartment. There had been the odd ward that he’d taken in, but ordinarily they didn’t stay with him.

Soon they were in the living room chatting and eating. It was strange how much it felt like they’d known each other far longer. Occasionally, their minds would brush, even when neither of them was trying to use the mental connection between them. It was an interesting sensation, unlike any Samuel had experienced before. When Dean was not in distress, it almost felt like pleasure washing over him. When Dean asked him about how he’d talked to him using the connection, Sam shrugged and again denied any knowledge. “Guess it’s a miracle.”

A few hours later, Dean was watching television and Sam was reading a book when Dean hesitantly asked if he could try out the bathtub. “Of course.” An unexpected mental touch told Sam that shower time had not been a pleasant time at the asylum, and had often been scary. But Dean remembered baths from when he was a child. Touching Dean on the shoulder as he passed him, Sam tried to offer a bit of comfort. “Exchanging a better memory for a bad one is therapeutic.”

On a whim, Sam added a bit of shampoo under the running water. As the water foamed, he walked out. “It fills fast. I’ve left you some towels and… ah, my pj’s will have to do until we get you some. You’ll just have to roll them up.”

Sam didn’t miss the fact that once Dean went into the bathroom, he left the door open a crack. “I’ll be here, I’m not leaving,” he said, knowing what Dean’s fear might be. Then he settled down and started to read again.

* * *

Their lunch/dinner had been amazing. Samuel was a fabulous cook, and Dean still almost couldn’t believe the angel had let him help make it.

Dean had never liked the fish they served at the asylum. It was slimy and gross and made him gag, and normally he refused to eat it, making the nurses angry. But while the angel was preparing the grilled fish, salmon Samuel said it was, in the skillet the smells alone had the young man’s mouth watering and his stomach growling loudly.

He’d been a little embarrassed when Samuel laughed softly, obviously hearing his stomach, but that was soon forgotten when the angel said he liked having him there. It was like a super nova had gone off in his heart and Dean just wanted to throw his arms around the angel and never let go. He only didn’t because he didn’t want to distract Samuel from cooking and make him mess up or burn their food.

After taking a not so cautious bite of his fish, Dean had devoured everything on his plate. Even the salad that Samuel had forced him to take some of because the vegetables were ‘good’ for him. Then, though he had been a little nervous to do so, the angel insisted he eat as much as he wanted, so Dean had even gone back for seconds.

Eating until he was almost too full, and now the young man was stretched out lazily on the big leather sofa that was even more comfortable than Dean imagined it would be. Enjoying the novelty of being able to flip through the television channels and watch whatever he wanted while Samuel read.

Though to be honest, he’d only been half paying attention to the shows. His eyes drawn back to Samuel again and again, watching the angel as he read, and occasionally concentrating on the mental connection between them. Not too much. Just barely brushing mental fingers over the link, almost like a caress, and smiling shyly and averting his eyes whenever Samuel looked up from his book at him.

After a while Dean finally built up enough courage to ask the angel what he wanted to ask ever since he’d first explored, “Could I use the bathtub? Sometime...?” He asked hesitantly, smiling when the angel answered, 'of course’ and immediately got up.

Dean followed him with his eyes, and smiled wider when he heard the sound of water running in the bathroom a second later, and the young man jumped up from his sprawled position on the couch, following the angel into the bathroom. He nodded as Samuel pointed out where the towels were and smiled when the angel offered to let him wear his pajamas. That idea pleasing Dean a great deal for some reason.

He left the door open a little, so at least he would be able to hear Samuel from the other room, through Dean relaxed at the angel’s reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere. Dean stripped off his clothes then, laying them out on top of the toilet so they wouldn’t get wet, and climbed into the tub that was quickly filling with warm water and _bubbles_.

Dean couldn’t help laugh a little at that, gathering a few of the suds in his hand and blowing them into the air playfully. Then reclining back into the tub with a soft moan of pleasure as the warm water enveloped him. Closing his eyes, Dean let himself relax... at least until his elbow accidentally bumped into the switch that controlled the Jacuzzi jets. Startling him enough that he yelped loudly as he tried to scramble up from the soapy water that was now frothing up with bubbles at an almost alarming rate. So much so he couldn’t even find the switch to turn them back off and he shouted to Samuel for help.

* * *

As Sam turned the pages, he found his mind seeking Dean’s every once in a while. Just a light touch, it wasn’t that he had anything to say, but it was becoming second nature. Maybe he’d look into it… research the hows and whys of it. He knew very well that sometimes a mystery was meant to stay a mystery, but he had a very curious nature and he thought that side of him might win in the end.

He heard Dean giving off some verbal sounds of pleasure and raised a brow, smiling to himself. It was a good thing he knew what was going on in there… hot water and deep bathtubs were miracles in and of themselves. He was just switching off the television when Dean’s shout had him off the armchair.

Long strides carried him into the bathroom where he saw Dean scrambling around in the frothy water, surrounded by a growing mountain of bubbles threatening to start pouring out. Without thought, he dropped to his knees next to the tub and leaned in to find the controls, his hand slipping across Dean’s chest. As he was reaching, Dean started to get up and their mouths bumped together. Sam gave a surprised laugh as he shut the jets, but somehow as he started to stand, he couldn’t shake off the sensation of a hot, moist mouth against his, and the feeling that he’d been kissed… which was ridiculous, because he hadn’t.

“It’s behind you, the control lever.” Sam shook his now very wet arms. As he twisted around to reach for a hanging towel, his foot slipped on the soapy water that had splashed down the sides of the tub. “Whoa!” he shouted, completely losing his balance.

One second he was in danger of falling into the tub, and the next he found himself in Dean’s wet and soapy embrace. It took a moment for Sam to realize that Dean had come half way out of the tub to catch him, and that the heat from his body was now soaking through Sam’s clothes. They were plastered together, no closer than when they’d been flying, but with Dean naked, and Sam’s clothing wet and clinging to him, it was far more intimate.

Sam’s breath caught in his chest. In the grips of new sensations, he was a bit confused. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t held many naked humans in all his years, it was just that he wasn’t affected. Licking his lips, he started to put some distance between them. “Looks like I’m not the only one to catch the fallen around here.”

* * *

Though he had shouted for the angel’s help, Dean was still a little surprised just how quickly Samuel came to his ‘rescue’. He could have sworn the angel had been hovering out in the hallway just outside the door, even though the young man knew that wasn’t the case.

He tried to get out of Samuel’s way, so he could reach the controls to turn off the jets and stop the mountain of bubbles from frothing over the side of the tub, but when Samuel’s fingers brushed against his skin and their lips touched briefly, Dean froze. Unable to look away from the angel’s eyes, even as Samuel reached around him to finally avert the ‘crisis’ Dean had caused.

Dean smiled a little sheepishly. Suds sticking in his hair, and covering his body now, and he wasn’t surprised to see Samuel just as wet and soapy as he was now. The angel’s shirt clinging to his chest, and again the young man felt that fluttering in his stomach, this time accompanied by a rush of warmth.

Then suddenly Samuel slipped on the wet floor and Dean moved purely on instinct. Rising up out of the water and catching the angel in his arms before fall. It almost would have been amusing, the sudden ‘reversal’ of their roles. But what Dean felt inside as he held the angel wasn’t amusement. He wasn’t sure what it was.

His eyes drifted down to Samuel’s lips when the angel’s tongue licked over them, and smiling, Dean leaned forward to press their lips together in a soft innocent kiss. Samuel had kissed him more than once, after all.

* * *

Time stood still for a moment. Sam accepted the closed-mouthed kiss, relief flowing through him when a brush of Dean’s mind did not hint at any tumultuous thoughts or feelings. The last thing he’d want to do was confuse Dean, but it seemed the boy was just emulating him. Pulling back, he kept his smile. “Thank you. Now, I’d better get undressed… dressed… in dry clothes.”

Getting out of Dean’s embrace was another matter. “You can let go now,” he said, this time amused at the look on Dean’s face. “Here… towel.” Shoving it lightly against Dean’s chest, “then pajamas,” he emphasized, eyebrows lifting slightly.

As he walked out of the bathroom, he took off his own sopping shirt and wrapped it in a towel so it wouldn’t drip on the hardwood floors on the way to the laundry room.

In his room, Sam changed into a long sleeved black top, and a pair of loose black karate pants. “Dean, I’m going to go down and get the dessert,” he called out. “Just downstairs, alright?” Without waiting for an answer, he headed down to the restaurant.

* * *

Samuel’s lips were soft and warm against his, and Dean hoped he was doing this right, because he’d never kissed anyone before. It was… nice. Even though the kiss did not last long.

When Samuel thanked him, Dean smiled at the angel. Though he found he was a little reluctant to let go of Samuel afterwards, he liked being close to him like this.

Then the angel was pushing a towel into his hands and Dean took it, almost reluctantly. Blushing a little as he began to dry himself off. He nodded when Samuel told him to put on the pajamas after he was done. He guessed his bath was over then.

The young man got out of the tub, managing to find the lever to drain the water, and then dried himself off as best he could. He put on the pajama bottoms, having to roll the cuffs up twice so he wouldn’t trip over them. He didn’t put the top on however, because his hair was still wet, dripping little droplets down his neck and back and he didn’t want to get it wet.

Dean just left it in the bathroom as he walked out, just hearing Sam saying he was going downstairs for their desserts as the angel walked out the door. So Dean walked over to the windows, looking out down at the street below at the restaurant to watch for him.

* * *

Samuel reached the street and was predictably met by Daryl and Sarah. As he joked and paid for his purchases, he noticed her gaze straying to look up. Stepping back, he too looked up to see Dean looking down at him. He shook his head and waved. Clearly that boy did not realize how damned sexy he looked half dressed and lounging casually by the window like that. Oops… unintended mental curse.

“Is he a model?” Sarah asked.

“I think he’s trouble,” Daryl opined, giving Sam his change.

“I think you both may be right. Thanks,” he took the packages, looked up once again, and then headed up the stairs. And now the waiters were arguing about which of them would be better suited for a threesome with him and Dean.

His shoulders shook with laughter as he made it inside his apartment. Those two never, ever failed to amuse him. “You’re causing quite a stir on the street,” he said, as Dean turned toward him. He could tell Dean had no idea what he meant, and doubted anyone had ever told him. “You’re very good looking … attractive. I’ll bet you’ll have all the ladies after you someday soon.”

Sitting down on the sofa, he opened the fancy dinner boxes and brought out the desserts. “Want to grab us some forks from the kitchen? Can’t wait for you to taste it.”

* * *

Dean was completely oblivious of the other interesting, or interested, stares he was getting while standing in Samuel’s window, leaning casually against the frame while he watched the angel down below. Smiling and lifting his hand in a brief wave, when Samuel waved up to him. Only once he saw the angel heading back to their building, did Dean back away from the window and look back towards the front door waiting for him.

Though the angel’s first words when he came in through the door confused the young man a little. Dean giving Samuel a curious look, tilting his head a little to the side with a raised eyebrow. When the angel explained, the young man blinked in surprise at first, and then beamed at the compliment. A light blush easily noticeable against his pale skin flowing into his cheeks and traveling down his bare neck and chest.

Dean wasted no time hurrying into the kitchen to get them a couple of forks, returning to the living room and flopping down on the couch beside Samuel. However his eyes were not on the desserts that the angel was taking out, they were on Samuel.

“You think I’m attractive?” he asked shyly, his eyes staring at the angel intently.

* * *

“Oh yes. Inside and out.” Feeling the weight of Dean’s gaze, he looked over and noticed is high color. He’d bet the kid wasn’t used to hearing anything positive about himself, and it was a damned shame. It was something Sam would rectify right away.

He passed the dessert to Dean, waiting a long moment before the boy took it. “On the inside, I think you’re... well there is an innocent quality about you. You’re brave,” and he had been when he’d allowed Rick’s final assault, and then reported him to the authorities, “except when you’re screaming like a girl and flying with me,” he laughed, this time pressing the plate into Dean’s hand. “I sense a loyalty in you. I’m sure there’s more. As for the outside... all you have to do is look in a mirror. Personally, I find your eyes are your most remarkable feature, but I have a thing for eyes,” he shrugged, “windows to the soul and all that. Aren’t you going to taste?”

Lifting his own fork, he used it to cut a piece of the brownie and combined it with the vanilla ice cream. “Now don’t go vain on me, okay?” Putting the dessert in his mouth the angel gave a satisfied, “mmm, good.”

* * *

Dean gave the angel a confused look when Samuel said ‘inside and out’, not understanding. But then Samuel went on to explain and the young man felt his cheeks growing brighter by the second.

Telling him he was loyal and brave… Though the angel went on to point out he had screamed like a girl while they were flying, which Dean immediately wanted to deny, even though it _had_ been true. Much to his embarrassment.

But then Samuel was saying all he had to do was look in the mirror to see how attractive he was, especially his eyes according to the angel, and Dean knew by now he was glowing red to the tips of his ears.

He honestly couldn’t believe he was any of those things that Samuel said. He knew he wasn’t brave, in fact just the opposite, and when he looked in the mirror… he’d never liked what he saw. But it was still nice to hear Samuel say it.

Dean knew one thing for certain, at least, he was nowhere near as beautiful as the angel was. Though he wasn’t really sure how to tell Samuel that without sounding like… well… a girl. So Dean just smiled shyly and took his dessert. Taking a bite of the brownie and ice cream and… ok maybe Samuel wasn’t kidding after all about it tasting like heaven.

The young man closed his eyes, just savoring the taste of the fudgy chocolate and creamy vanilla ice cream melting together on his tongue before he swallowed. Licking the fork completely clean before he opened his eyes again, grinning widely at the angel, before going for another bite.

* * *

Sam hadn’t realized he’d been mesmerized by the way Dean was licking his fork clean until Dean opened his brilliant green eyes. Dragging his gaze away, Sam cleared his throat, and tried to cleanse his mind of the unbidden thought. _Wish I were your fork_. It was ridiculous, and yet here he was mentally saying a few Hail Marys... just in case.

By the time they were done with dessert, Sam concluded that Dean just had a very provocative way of eating. Lord help the world of people out there.

They talked about many things over the next hour. Sam was gently trying to get information about how much schooling Dean had, and trying to figure out where they’d need to start with both his education and helping him get socialized. With just the two of them there, he didn’t seem awkward or anything, so he had high hopes for him.

They watched a bit more television, Sam noting that shoot ‘em up and blow ‘em up movies seemed to get Dean’s attention. Somehow, he wasn’t really surprised. At one point, when he was channel surfing and stopped on a scene involving what appeared to be an asylum, Sam spoke to get his attention, and took the remote from him and changed the channel. No words were exchanged about it. None were needed.

Later, Dean started yawning and Sam could see he was fighting it. “Come on, why don’t you get some sleep, it’s late.” It was only eleven, but he knew the lights went out much earlier at the asylum, so Dean had to be used to earlier nights.

When they reached the room, he asked if Dean wanted to put his top on, but didn’t insist. Once he got into the bed, Sam noticed he looked a bit stressed and worried. He sat down next to him and started to stroke his face, and hair. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I’m just in the other room and I’ll leave the doors open. You even have a night light so it won’t be dark.”

He looked down and kept up the soothing strokes, moving all the way down Dean’s neck and shoulder. “Nothing can get in here, nothing. It’s just you and me.”

Eventually, when Dean closed his eyes, Samuel whispered a short prayer, and quietly left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

  
_Jagged sharp rocks sliced into his palms and the soles of his feet as he scrambled over their uneven face. His blood making the stones slippery and even more treacherous but still he climbed. Higher, faster. His heart pounding in his chest almost, almost, loud enough to drown out the sounds of the inhuman shrieks and howls coming from behind him. Close. Too close. So close he swore he could feel their hot, rotting, breath on the back of his neck. No matter how fast he climbed, they were always right there. He could hear them, but he did not dare to turn around and see them._   


_  
**Please... help me please...** He begged silently, because he simply couldn't draw enough breath into his scorched lungs to speak. He would have screamed if he could, but every breath he took felt like fire filling his lungs and it was agony. But if he stopped breathing, if he stopped moving, they would catch him and..._

_His back, sides, shoulders, and hips were covered with deep bleeding gouges from their claws. When they'd managed to catch him before. His blood flowing freely from the scratches, weakening him further, but still he struggled on. Because he knew if he stopped, things worse than death would be waiting for him. Horrors he'd only begun to imagine..._

_**Help me! Please!** _

_**Samuel...** _

_Dean sobbed when no answer came to his pleas. No answer. Never an answer. Like before... He'd been abandoned again, and only Hell was waiting for him. He couldn't run from it. He couldn't hide. He stumbled, only briefly, but they were on him in an instant. Claws and teeth tearing into his flesh and finally he screamed.  
_  
***

Dean sat up so quickly in the bed he nearly fell out of it. For a few heart stopping moments forgetting where he was entirely. The terror he felt from the nightmare following him to the waking world, and he was breathing so fast he was nearly hyperventilating.

He could still hear their howls of hunger. Rage. He could still feel the phantom echo of their claws ripping into his fragile flesh. Tearing at his flesh with their jaws. Every second he expected to see one of them leap out of the shadows to devour him, and only one rational thought filtered through the chaos of panic he was trapped in.

"Samuel!"

* * *

Sam's heart was pounding against his chest. Fear... adrenalin and fear coursed through his veins. Terror filled his mind.

_Help me.  
_  
Samuel knew that voice. His eyes snapped open and he felt another brush of Dean's mind, this time even more panicked. There were no sounds coming from his room, no shouts... just the mental plea that he heard at soul level.

Throwing the heavy comforter off, Sam was off the bed and heading to Dean's room.

He was there to see Dean sit up and call his name out loud this time.

"Right here." Moving right next to the bed, Sam closed his arms around Dean, pulling him up against his lower chest and holding him. "It was a dream... a nightmare, you're safe." He tightened his hold and deliberately brushed Dean's mind with his, trying to calm, and to talk to him in whichever manner worked best. _Move over, I'll sit with you a while._  


* * *

Dean felt Samuel’s arms around him almost before he even realized the angel was even there. Panic blinding, deafening him, it was all he could see, feel, taste, but then there were strong arms surrounding him with warmth. Samuel’s voice piercing through tight noose of fear that was choking him, and the first real breath that reached his lungs was of the angel’s scent. The monsters were gone. It was just Samuel with him, holding him. Only him…

He felt so much relief then he couldn’t help the choked sob that tore from his throat as he all but collapsed against Samuel. Wrapping his arms tight around the angel. Holding on even tighter than he’d held onto him when they’d been flying. Trying to burrow himself as close as he could possibly get to the angel’s warm body where he knew he would be safe. Always safe.

When he felt the gentle touch of the angel’s mind touch his, Dean nodded shakily and obeyed. Scooting over a little bit in the bed to allow Samuel to sit beside him, though he did not release his hold. It probably would have been easier to cut off his own arms right now than to let Samuel go.

“M’sorry…” Dean mumbled softly against the angel’s chest. Realizing with some embarrassment that he must have woken Samuel up from his sleep with his nightmare, but he simply couldn’t regret the angel being here now. Not when the cold terror he’d felt in the nightmare was finally starting to bleed away thanks to Samuel’s warmth.

“It wasn’t a nightmare. I saw… When I died… I saw things… I thought I was back… there…” The young man haltingly described what he had dreamed, shivering a little at the memory of the nightmare that he knew was more than a nightmare. It was more a promise. Of what was waiting for him…

Dean swallowed hard, the wounds beneath the bandages wrapped around his lower arms beginning to ache a little. Or maybe that was all in his head too. He didn’t know, but he shivered again as he finally asked the question that he’d been afraid to.

“Am I… going to Hell…?”

* * *

As Dean spoke of what he’d seen, Sam didn’t have to try to visualize, he’d seen those sights too. He saw hell every time he opened its gates and sent another demon where it belonged. The sights, the screams, the smells... the pain and misery, if he dwelled on it for too long, he would do nothing but brood or cry for man.

Bending his head and kissing the top of Dean’s head, he promised himself... this was one man he would not cry for. He wouldn’t let him slip. He’d dragged him out of the mouth of death, and he wasn’t about to let him get sucked into hell.

He felt the convulsion of Dean’s throat against his chest, and knew the question was coming. Tensing, he took a deep breath.

“Not if I have anything to say about it. And not if...” He had to give Dean the truth, all of it. “If you had died, there would have been no escape from hell. Taking your own life is a mortal sin.” He felt Dean tense, and he stroked his back. “But you didn’t die, you’re alive. You have a second chance.”

If anyone deserved one, it was this boy... this man who had spent his life in an asylum for nothing more than his ability to see truth. Life wasn’t fair. There were no excuses for suicide. He knew the manta... he knew it too well... but under the circumstances... stupid rule.

“It will take hard work. You will have to make sure your good deeds outweigh the sin of taking your life, but you have a lifetime to do it in.” He lifted Dean’s chin and made him look up at him. “I’ll help you, you’re not alone.”

* * *

Dean listened to the angel’s words carefully. Samuel’s reassurances giving him a little comfort, but he was still worried. He didn’t want to go to Hell, and because of that, of course the young man regretted trying to kill himself. However he couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t tried to kill himself, if Samuel would have ever come for him. If he would have spent the rest of his life in the asylum without ever having known the angel…

He honestly wasn’t sure which thought was more terrifying, and there was still a chance, after everything, he would still go to Hell. If his ‘good deeds’ did not outweigh his sin… What did Samuel even mean by good deeds? Dean wasn’t sure he even knew where to start…

But looking up into Samuel’s beautiful eyes, he felt nothing but love and trust for him, and when the angel said he would help him, Dean believed him.

The young man snuggled close to the angel again, burying his face against Samuel’s neck, just wanting to stay like this in his arms for the rest of the night. He was afraid to close his eyes again. He didn’t want to go back to that nightmare, or any other nightmare. He was so tired of having nightmares. When he was asleep. When he was awake. The only time he didn’t have them it seemed was when he was with Samuel.

“Can I… sleep with you tonight?” Dean finally whispered hesitantly. Almost hating to do so, considering Samuel had said earlier he thought he was ‘brave’ but what would the angel think of him now that he couldn’t even sleep alone in his own room, with a _nightlight_ even, without having nightmares?

* * *

Looking into the fathomless depths of Dean’s eyes, Sam was humbled by the absolute trust he read in them. After all the set backs in his life, after every disappointment, every lie, every darker day following a dark one, that he could still believe was a miracle.

He smiled as Dean ducked his head down and buried it in his neck. He seemed to fall prey to attacks of shyness, and it was very endearing. Odd... usually it was Sam who comforted, but somehow the even rhythm of Dean’s heart against his chest felt... soothing might not be the right word.

Before he could think on it some more, Dean was asking to sleep with him. Sam laughed softly at the phrasing. It was a good thing he was neither human nor a demon, because the acceptance of that offer would mean something very different from one of them.

“I’ll stay until you’re asleep,” he promised, but he felt Dean stiffen and tense. “Alright, I’ll be here when you wake.” _You make it hard to refuse you, my son._ Leaning his head against the headboard, Sam closed his eyes.

* * *

Dean smiled against the angel’s neck when Samuel finally agreed to stay with him tonight, and the young man snuggled even closer to him as the angel got comfortable in his bed. Hugging around Samuel’s middle and pillowing his head comfortably against the angel’s chest. Finally feeling himself relaxing, exhaustion tugging at him as he settled against Samuel’s warm body.

The panic he felt from the nightmare not completely gone, but it seemed very far away now and he allowed his eyes to drift closed. No longer fighting the pull of sleep because he knew he wouldn’t have any nightmares, at least tonight, with Samuel watching over him.

Dean didn’t have any nightmares, but he still dreamed.

He dreamed of Samuel’s comforting voice, whispering to him. Promising him everything would be ok. That nothing would hurt him. That he would never be alone again…

He dreamed of Samuel’s gentle touch. Always so kind. Taking away pain. When the angel had taken away the memory of the orderly’s foul touch from his body. Always so careful, when Samuel had held him so close as they flew. So warm, when the angel’s fingers brushed against his flesh in the bathroom…

He dreamed of Samuel’s lips. Kissing his forehead. His cheek. His lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Samuel the way he had seen on some television shows. Their lips touching for more than just a few seconds. He wanted to know. Wanted to know so badly what it would feel like… what he would taste like…

When Dean woke up, it was to the sound of a strong heartbeat beneath his ear. Samuel’s chest rising and falling gently beneath him. Sunlight warming his face as it spilled through the curtains of his window. Bathing the whole room in a warm golden glow, and as he turned his face to look at Samuel, if Dean hadn’t already known he was an angel, he still would have still thought it now.

He was so beautiful… so…

Dean swallowed hard as he felt his stomach clench. The fluttering he felt he’d almost grown used to every time he looked at Samuel more intense, and the warmth was back. This time accompanied by an ache in his groin and he realized his penis was hard.

The young man flushed in embarrassment, even though Samuel was asleep and couldn’t see it. Dean was always embarrassed when this happened to him. He hated it. It reminded him… it reminded him of Rick. The older man was always pushing his hard penis against him, making him touch it, forcing it into him… Sometimes Rick had even touched him until he got hard like this and kept touching him until… He hated it. Just like he hated everything the older man did to him.

Sometimes when he got hard like this he could ignore it and it would go away on his own, but sometimes… sometimes he would get so hard it almost _hurt_ and it wouldn’t go away until he touched himself, and to his shame he knew this was one of those times. He was already aching a little now…

God, why did this have to happen when he was laying next to Samuel? What would he think if he woke up and saw that he was hard? Saw that he was just as… disgusting… as Rick?

Horrified by that thought, Dean thought maybe if he touched himself quickly he could make himself go down before the angel woke up and Samuel would never find out. So, inching his hips away from the angel’s body a little so Samuel wouldn’t feel him, Dean slid his hand down the front of his pajamas. Feeling a little sick as he curled his fingers around himself, even as his penis jumped in his hand as he began to stroke it. Closing his eyes, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible.

* * *

He wasn’t alone. He didn’t have to sit on a roof and watch people. He didn’t have to read and learn about them from books. Admiring them from afar was a thing of the past.

Everywhere he went, Dean was with him. Even when he flew, even though Dean hated to fly, he came with him.

Then one day, Dean had his own wings. They flew up in the sky so high... higher than any others had been before, and they embraced. Dean's strange but fresh ideas, had them kissing as they fell from the sky, only to open up their wings at the last moment.

*

Though a small smile spread across Sam’s face, he knew the dream was wrong. No, dreams weren’t wrong, but it could never be. He’d just accept the gift of the dream, and treasure it for what it was... a lovely story.

A movement had him opening his eyes. It didn’t stop. As the haze of sleep lifted, he knew he was with Dean... smelled the boy’s unique scent mixed with the scent of his own soap.

“Dean?” He raised himself up and saw the back and forth jerking motions under the thin sheet. His cheeks grew warm as he swept his gaze up to Dean’s eyes.

* * *

Dean tried to work his hand over his flesh as fast as he could. Just wanting to get it over with, but it wasn’t helping, not at all. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong this time, but it only seemed to make his ‘problem’ worse, not better, and he was close to tears of frustration when he heard Samuel’s voice and he swore his heart froze in his chest.

His hand stilled immediately on his flesh as his eyes flew open, staring up at the angel in utter horror of being discovered doing… this… For a few panicked heart beats he felt completely frozen, and then he ripped his hand out of his pajamas as though his own touch burned him.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…” Dean stammered. His cheeks aflame with shame and barely able to hold back his tears of humiliation and disgust at himself. Oh god… what Samuel must think of him now. Oh, please don’t let him think he was like Rick. Please…

“I won’t do it again. I swear. I won’t… please don’t send me away…” He begged softly, his voice breaking as the tears he’d been fighting to hold back finally slipped down his cheeks.

* * *

As expressions of shock, embarrassment, fear and shame crossed Dean’s features, Samuel’s heart constricted. This went way beyond ordinary embarrassment, and the apology... He shook his head no, because it wasn’t necessary, but Dean went on.

When he started to beg not to be sent away, when he started to cry, Sam shook his head again and tried to find the right words. “No... I’ll never send you away, not ever.”

They didn’t do it. They didn’t erase the pain in the boy’s eyes, and they didn’t stop the tears.

Samuel shifted, and moved his hand under the sheet. “It’s natural... it’s called masturbation. Everyone does it, Dean.” He brushed his hand over Dean’s erection, felt him lift up. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll show you,” he whispered, looking for the slightest sign of rejection, but finding none.

He dipped his hand inside the waistband of Dean’s pajamas and briefs, and closed his warm hand around Dean’s shaft. It felt like smooth silk stretched tight over steel... he was that hard. “Men often also wake like this... its normal.” He started to stroke and leaned in, so Dean’s face was against his shoulder. “Close your eyes. You can think of... who you’d like to be with, like this. Maybe that dark haired woman ... the cop in last nights movie... or the blonde in that ad?”

Feeling like he was talking too much, Samuel stopped talking. He concentrated on squeezing and moving his hand, using his mental connection to get into tune with Dean’s needs. When his thumb accidentally touched Dean’s crown, the sensations that were mentally transmitted to Sam had him holding his breath. He started to move his hand the way Dean wanted, paying attention to his crown, then slipping all the way down his shaft and applying pressure to it’s under side.

The sound of Dean’s labored breaths, the low groans breaking from the back of his throat had Samuel wound so tight, had him hoping for the next one, and the next... like he was addicted. His pulse started to race, his heart beat hard against his chest. “Good... that’s it... that’s it...” he crooned, encouraging more, needing to hear more, needing to feel Dean thrash harder. Then he caught himself moving back and forth slightly, seeking pressure where there was none, and came back to his senses. Biting his lip to try to prevent himself from feeling anything else, he redoubled his effort... needing to bring off Dean _now_.

* * *

Dean was so afraid, so certain he'd just ruined everything, he was close to having a panic attack like he used to have during his 'hallucinations'.

He was so sure that Samuel would be disappointed, or worse angry at him. That the angel would think he was a freak, just like everyone else did. That Samuel would think he was disgusting and awful, and wouldn't want him here anymore. He was afraid that the Samuel would throw him out on the street, or worse, send him back to the asylum, and maybe he deserved to be there after all if he was like this…

Dean knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make it better, he could only wait for the ax to fall… But it didn't. Samuel's expression remained as calm and gentle as it always was. He didn't look angry, thank god, or disgusted, he just looked… sad?

Hope began to flicker in the young man's chest when Samuel said he wouldn't send him away. But even the intense relief he felt hearing those words wasn't enough to stop his tears. He was still ashamed, and certain he had disappointed Samuel and that thought was so painful alone it was almost punishment enough.

He wanted to apologize to the angel again, but he couldn't get the words out of his constricting throat. He wanted to swear again that he would never, ever, do that again. It had to be evil and wrong. Anything that Rick had done had to be, and Dean didn't want to be anything like him. He didn't want to go to hell. But more than that, he didn't want to leave Samuel. He didn't want the angel to ever regret taking him in…

All of Dean's thoughts came to an abrupt screeching halt however when he felt the angel's hand move underneath the sheet, his warm fingers brushing over his penis that was still shamefully hard, and the young man's eyes went as wide as saucers. His breath hitching in his chest, his hips instinctively trying to push up against Samuel's palm and Dean knew his face has to be as red as a tomato by now, but he didn't really care because he was still trying to process the angel's words.

It was… everyone? But… why would… It only ever made him feel disgusting and bad… and… When Samuel's fingers curled around his shaft, holding him much more gently than Rick, or even himself, ever had, Dean couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped his lips followed by a whimper as Samuel began to stroke him slowly.

Oh god…

It had never… never felt like this. It felt… felt so good… and again Dean felt ashamed, but then Samuel's voice was whispering in his ear. It was normal… natural… Samuel said, and he wanted to believe that… that he was not bad for liking this… It had always felt bad when Rick touched him like this, but when Samuel did it, it felt so _good_ , he couldn't stop from moaning against the angel's shoulder.

His breathing grew faster as his hips moved instinctively to the rhythm Samuel had set. His heart pounding against his ribs as he thrust up, pushing into the hand wrapped around his aching flesh. Small whimpers changed to deep groans in his throat that he couldn't hold back if he wanted to, and his stomach muscles clenched as his whole body began trembling.

It felt like fire was pulling in his stomach. Burning, aching, but so sweet at the same time. So good. His fingers grasped at the sheets beneath him tightly, needing something to hold onto. He felt like he was coming apart inside, but Samuel was there, holding him, his gentle voice, encouraging, just like he was there when Dean needed him most, and he finally let go. Knowing that Samuel would be there to catch him.

"Samuel!" He moaned the angel's name loudly as his orgasm took him by surprise. His head thrown back, mouth wide, gasping for breath, as his back arched completely off the bed. His seed spilled hotly against his lower stomach, coating Samuel's hand and the front of his pajamas.

* * *

Oh God... Samuel didn’t know when he started to mentally echo the sounds Dean was making and his calls on God, or when he started to breath to the same rhythm... or when a fever took him in its grip... or just when he held his breath during the last throes of Dean’s climax.

All he knew was that when his name was torn from Dean’s throat, he felt nothing less than scorching heat rush from his groin throughout his system. There was nothing chaste about the way he was staring at Dean. There was nothing chaste about the way he kept holding Dean's shaft just a few minutes longer than necessary.

And there was nothing chaste about the way he found himself leaning forward, dying to taste Dean’s lips the way he accidentally had when they’d bumped in the tub. Even without touching... just the mere thought had his lips burning.

He pulled back and tried to come to his senses. “I...” Licking his lips, he let out a heated breath. When he pulled his hand out from under the sheet, it was shaking slightly. Meeting Dean’s gaze, for once, the angel didn’t know what to say. Lust wasn’t something he experienced often, and certainly not this strongly.

* * *

Dean didn’t know how long he laid there with his eyes closed, his chest heaving as tried to regain control over his breathing, simply unable to think.

Just… just… surprised… that didn’t even begin to cover it. He didn’t think he could form a coherent thought in his head if his life depended on it. It was hard enough to process everything he had felt… everything he was feeling now…

In his body. In his heart…

All he could think about was how warm his skin felt. Hyper sensitive. Tingling. His body still trembling a little from the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through him. The feeling of the sticky cooling mess against his stomach. Samuel’s warm gentle fingers still wrapped around his now softening penis…

The young man finally forced his eyes open when he felt the angel move beside him. Looking up at Samuel with nothing short of wonder, even as he whimpered softly as the angel pulled his hand away from his sensitive flesh. Leaving him feeling a little colder now. Longing…

Dean scooted a little closer to the angel, trying to get some of that warmth back. Pressing himself against Samuel’s body, slipping his arms around the angel’s waist. His eyes never looking away from Samuel’s. Beautiful… so beautiful…

The young man licked his lips softly. Surprised how dry they felt.

“Wow…” He finally whispered, and he was a little surprised he even managed that much. But it seemed to sum everything up pretty well. Moving on instinct, Dean closed his eyes again, leaning forward to press his lips softly to the angel’s.

* * *

The brief seconds that Dean stared at him with those fathomless green eyes felt like forever. Sam’s breath hitched in his throat, and as he felt Dean’s arms go around him, instinctively... he knew he should move away. But despite the warning signals, he found he couldn’t tear himself away... just couldn’t.

When Dean’s mouth touched his, he quickly pressed his lips tightly together. Every cell in his body remembered that elusive touch of Dean’s tongue... every cell cried out for another touch, another taste. Determined not to give in his new found lusty thoughts, Sam merely brushed his mouth over Dean’s.

Big mistake. His mouth ached and burned with need. Desire flooded his entire being, shredding his good intentions. Suddenly Sam found himself dragging his closed mouth back and forth over Dean’s, once, twice... and then his hand was behind Dean’s head, holding him in place as he kissed him again. Mental images of their tongues tangling together tortured him, made him hungry for more... for things he couldn’t have.

By the time he broke the kiss, he was flushed and hot all over. Craving more than an open mouthed kiss... much more. "Wow." He gave a wry smile as he tried to regain his composure. Licking his lips, he slowly pushed off the bed and reached for the box of kleenex.

After wiping his hand, he passed the box to Dean. He would have cleaned him, but he was afraid, he didn't trust himself suddenly. He didn't know if he could fight these new sensations right here, right now. "I should make breakfast."

* * *

When he felt Samuel’s lips tighten against his briefly, Dean felt a small spike of doubt that he’d done something wrong by kissing the angel. Though he didn’t really understand why since Samuel had kissed _him_ many times. But before that doubt could turn into a real fear, the angel’s lips relaxed and brushed against his own and the young man sighed softly at the warm tingling sensation that flowed through his body as Samuel brushed his lips across his.

Then suddenly the angel’s hand cupped the back of his head, holding him in place, but instead of fear he felt a rush of heat from his lips all the way to his toes, and the tingling sensation turned to an ache. Dean gasped softly, his arms tightening around the angel, when he saw flashes in his mind of he and Samuel kissing. _Really_ kissing, like he’d seen on television, and he wanted it so badly it hurt.

He was already parting his lips, expecting to feel the touch of Samuel’s tongue against his lips, in his mouth, and he just _knew_ it would be nothing like when Rick had forced his mouth open for his tongue. It would be wonderful, just like everything else Samuel had shown him…

But it didn’t happen. The angel drew away, and Dean couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped him as his eyes slid open. Breathing a little heavily he stared up at Samuel with more than a bit of longing, as he watched the angel lick his lips. His own tongue darting out to do the same without thought, and he felt that warm rush again when he tasted Samuel on them.

Yeah… wow…

Dean remained laying where he was. Not sure if he could move even if he wanted to as he watched the angel clean off his hand with a few Kleenex. Taking the box almost hesitantly and nodding when Samuel offered it to him. Smiling softly at the angel even though he felt disappointment when he said he was going to make breakfast.

He simply nodded however, not really knowing what to say. Watching the angel leave his room, and Dean finally pulled out a few Kleenex out of the box to clean up the sticky mess inside his pajamas. Samuel’s pajamas actually… That thought warmed his already flushed cheeks as he slid the wet material down his hips and then wiped off his skin.

Just the light touch of the Kleenex making his skin tingle even more, and Dean ran his fingertips over his softened penis curiously. His eyelids fluttering closed and he had to bite his lip to stifle a soft moan that tried to escape as he touched his oversensitive flesh, imagining his fingers were Samuel’s.

It wasn’t long before he was coming again, in his own fist this time. Samuel’s name a breathy moan on his lips.

* * *

The normally unflustered angel was definitely not himself. As he washed his hands, he stared at himself in the mirror. His skin was unusually flushed and his mouth was slightly reddened, but his eyes… dear God, they reflected a hunger he had no business feeling. Lowering his head, he rinsed his face with cold water, wishing he could as easily wash away the sinful desires that coursed through his entire being.

Heading to his room, he didn’t dare glance at the door to Dean’s room. It was too soon. First he had to get his emotions back under control. He changed quickly into casual clothes, then kneeled to say his prayers. He’d never had to pray for the strength to fight lusty thoughts before, not in all the centuries he’d walked the earth.

When he thought he had re-centered himself, he headed for the kitchen and was quickly absorbed in the tasks at hand. Soon he had coffee brewing, bread in the toaster and was frying up eggs and bacon. As he planned out their day, he completely relaxed and started to hum under his breath. “Breakfast is almost ready,” he called out, starting to flip the eggs over. One minute his thoughts were pure and innocent, the next, his mind was invaded by Dean’s passionate mental cry of his name. Overwhelming need swept over Samuel, blinding him. Just as an involuntary groan started to leave his throat, his arm accidentally touched the frying pan.

“Agh…ouch.” Closing and opening his eyes, he shook his hand as if to cool the burn. He swore in eight ancient languages before he caught himself. Oh God, he could see hundreds… maybe thousands of hail Marys in his future, and the day had only just started.

* * *

Dean cleaned himself off again quickly, unable to keep the smile off of his flushed face as he did. The second time wasn’t as good as when Samuel had been touching him himself, but it had been almost as good imagining the angel’s hand around him again instead of his own. Imagining kissing Samuel while he was doing it. _Really_ kissing him, while the angel touched him. That had been the best part.

As he stripped off his slightly damp pajamas, throwing them into a hamper, he wondered if… they could do it again. It had felt so good. He wanted… he wanted to touch Samuel like that too. He wondered if the angel would let him? He said it was normal. Natural. That everyone did it.

Maybe he would ask Samuel tonight when they went to bed. Maybe Samuel would let him sleep in his bed this time.

Dean dressed quickly in some of his new clothes. Still feeling a little overwhelmed, not only by what had happened this morning, but just how drastically his life had suddenly changed when he met Samuel. When the angel had come for him. It was… nothing short of a miracle… and Dean didn’t think he’d ever believed in such things before. In god, or miracles, or anything good…

It was hard not to now however as he smiled at himself in the mirror. For perhaps the first time in his life, liking how he looked as he ran his fingers through his hair. His skin still slightly flushed, and still smiling from ear to ear as he followed his nose to the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. His stomach rumbling a little as he walked in, grinning at the angel.

Walking up directly behind Samuel and wrapping his arms tightly around the angel’s waist in a hug.

“Thank you.” He said softly, meaning everything, not just cooking him breakfast, before reaching around Samuel to snag a piece of cooling bacon from the paper towel and popping it into his mouth with a pleased moan, licking his fingers.

* * *

Ordinarily, Sam would be completely relaxed when hugged. Today was different, on the heels of everything that had happened, he was far from relaxed. He did enjoy Dean’s touch though, and couldn’t help smiling at the gesture.

Course he quickly lost the smile when Dean leaned in further to reach around him and snag a piece of bacon. The motion had Dean’s hand slipping across Sam’s stomach, causing Sam to instantly tense up and hold his breath. He was going to have to talk to Dean about personal space, though he had to admit, as an angel, he never had much regard for it. It was his role to comfort, and you couldn’t do that without touching.

“You’re welcome.” Samuel found his gaze was locked on Dean’s mouth, as he licked his fingers. No, he refused to allow his mind to wander, to think about what it might feel like to have those defined lips close around…

He blinked a couple of times. “Breakfast… table. Here, take this, “ he gave Dean a plate with the toasts and shooed him out of the kitchen. Taking a breath to gather himself, Sam followed and brought the rest of the food out.

They talked quite a bit about how Sam planned on furthering Dean’s education and also helping him to fit in and learn to socialize at his own pace. “But first, we’re getting you a proper hair cut,” Sam grinned. “And pajamas your size.”

Course talk of pajamas sent his mind directly to the events of the morning, and he could tell Dean was right there with him. Well there was no time like the presence to have a discussion about that. He cleared his throat. “Dean, about masturbating, you know… what you were doing this morning? I’ll get some written materials on sex education for you to look at, or maybe a health education video so you don’t feel so worried and confused. You looked so afraid this morning, you scared me.” Sam took a sip of his coffee, to let that sink in. “I told you it’s a natural urge, and it is. But it’s also something that is… personal. It’s something that’s done… I mean when it’s done, it’s usually in a bathroom or behind closed doors… privately. Maybe with a lover, but not with just anyone… and certainly not outside.”

Sensing the boy might be taking this as criticism, Sam locked gazes with him. “I don’t want to confuse you by telling you it’s natural, and then letting you find out the hard way that even if it’s natural, there are rules about where and when you can do it. I just don’t know how much you know.”  
 _  
And don’t do it when I’m cooking, dammit._ Though the burn had healed, its memory lingered.

* * *

Dean laughed softly as he was shooed out of the kitchen. Stuffing a slice of toast into his mouth on the way to the table and sitting down. Samuel came out of the kitchen moments later with the rest of their breakfast and the young man wasted no time piling up his plate with eggs, toast, and more bacon.

The bacon was definitely the best part, he decided, as he licked his fingers clean after shoving another strip into his mouth. Even though everything was wonderful, truthfully, and while Samuel talked to him, Dean spent most of the time nodding as he shoveled eggs into his mouth like he was starving. Making little appreciative noises to Sam’s cooking practically with every bite.

He wasn’t sure how much he liked hearing how Samuel wanted him to start studying math, science, history, reading… Dean hadn’t had any kind of formal schooling since he was twelve, and from what he remembered, all of those things had been _boring_ so he wasn’t really looking forward to taking them up as a ‘hobby’ again. But if Samuel wanted him to learn this stuff, he supposed it was the least he could do, given all the angel had done for him so far.

Though to be honest, when Samuel changed the subject to him learning to ‘socialize’ that made Dean even more uncomfortable. He’d never ‘fit in’ anywhere. Even as a child, everyone had thought he was a freak of nature. Hell, even at the asylum where everyone was crazy, he hadn’t fit in, how messed up was that?

So he figured his trepidation about meeting new people and trying to ‘fit in’ was warranted. Why couldn’t he just spend all his time with Samuel? Dean had never had anyone else before, and he didn’t really want to talk or spend time with anyone else now either.

Though when the angel mentioned he needed to get a ‘proper’ haircut, Dean ran his fingers through his hair a little self consciously. A small smile tugging at his lips and a bit of heat rushing to his cheeks when Samuel mentioned also getting him new pajamas.

_I like yours._ He almost said, but then Samuel was talking about him masturbating, and how scared he’d looked this morning before the angel had ‘helped’ him, and the young man averted his eyes shyly. Picking at his eggs with his fork as he avoided the angel’s gaze for the moment. A little embarrassed by his reaction now, even though he _had_ been terrified this morning, of course that only made it more embarrassing.

He’d only been scared because he only had his… experiences… with Rick to go by. It had always either hurt, or made him feel disgusting or ashamed before, and he didn’t know it could be… different. He had been afraid of what Samuel would think of him, think he was bad, like the orderly… But he wasn’t afraid of that anymore, since Samuel said it was normal. Dean wanted to apologize to Samuel for scaring him, but he didn’t know how he could without explaining, and the young man really didn’t want to talk about Rick right now. Or ever, if it could be avoided.

Samuel had shown him it could be different. It could be good, and that was enough for him, so he simply nodded a little at the angel’s words. A small smile tugging at his lips as the angel tried to ‘explain’ to him where and when not to do _that_. Such as not ‘outside’ which the young man had to snicker a little at. There were a lot of things Dean might not know, but at least he knew that much. Still, he nodded again in understanding.

Dean poked at his eggs some more, even though they’d gone a little cold, before looking back up into the angel’s eyes. Catching the stray thought from Samuel and raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“You felt that?” He asked, even as he caught the memory about the burn and the young man’s expression turned to intense guilt then. The idea that Samuel had hurt himself because he… It almost had him on the verge of tears again as Dean whispered, “I’m sorry…”

* * *

“Dean,” Sam groaned, kicking himself. “Listen, you’ve had more than enough… more than a lifetime’s worth of guilt and fear, and that’s why you’re feeling this way. To most people, this would be funny. Look.” He mentally visualized what had happened, exaggerating it and showing him the humorous side. Then he visualized other scenes with himself being clumsy, or falling as a result of trick played by Dean, and compared it with some comedic scenes on television.

“I don’t know if you got all that, but what I’m trying to show you is that not every painful event is an extreme, you know? Which… _not_ an invitation to start playing tricks on me,” he grinned, half fearful. There was a very sneaky and playful side to Dean, and Sam knew that while it was buried for now, when it came out… world watch out. And right now, he was Dean’s world… which meant he was in the direct line of danger.

“You know there’s only one person, one entity who is infallible. The rest of us… you, me, everyone else … we make mistakes. You make a mistake, and I’ll tell you,” he nodded. “And I’ll explain to you why something you did is wrong, and then we can discuss it, and that’s pretty much it. You’re not getting thrown out, I won’t hate you… I _can’t_ hate… and I never give up, not ever. This door… my arms… they’re always open to you. If you trust anything, trust in that.”

He picked up a stack of newspapers and started rifling through them. “Right… end of lecture. Eat your eggs.”

* * *

Samuel’s words were enough to give the young man a pause, even though it didn’t erase the guilt from his face immediately it was now mingled with confusion.

Funny? Dean really didn’t find the idea of Samuel burning himself at all funny, but… Ok, the way the angel was showing him it happened, even though he had a feeling it didn’t happen _quite_ that way, had the young man smiling in spite of himself. Though as Samuel continued to feed him images directly into his mind, Dean was left wiping tears from his eyes that definitely weren’t from guilt or fear and giggling.

Ok, maybe it was a little funny…

By the time Samuel was done with his ‘lecture’ Dean was feeling much better, about a lot of things, and he thought he understood what the angel was trying to tell him. Just knowing that Samuel wouldn’t hate him, or think he was bad, or send him away if he made a mistake was a _huge_ weight off of his shoulders.

So Dean did as he was told and started to nibble on his eggs again. Pretty much full by now but they were so good he wanted to finish them anyway. Every once in a while casting a thoughtful look at the angel as he read the newspapers.

Then as Samuel lifted his coffee to his lips, a mischievous smile broke out suddenly on the young man’s face. Just as Samuel was taking a drink he sent the angel one of his favorite mental images he’d come up with while he was touching himself this morning. Him and Samuel both in the bathtub with bubbles, his arms around the angel once more, but this time they were kissing and both of them were naked.

* * *

Hunger in Haiti. Samuel knew it wasn’t for him to question, but it bothered him. The article went into detail on how a large portion of the population was reduced to eating ‘mud biscuits.’ He turned to the financials and picked up his coffee. Stocks up a few points, economy stable…

The erotic image that forced its way into his mind packed a powerful punch and had coffee spewing painfully out of the angel’s nostrils. He raised a hand up in a ‘stop’ motion. “Not funny… really not funny… seriously not…” But seeing Dean laughing so hard that tears were coming out of his eyes had Sam involuntarily laughing.

He tried to stop, because this was so wrong… and he’d just given Dean ammunition against him. That alone should scare him sober, but instead, his shoulders were still shaking. He shook his head, trying to explain and not laugh, “Angels… they don’t… that doesn’t happen…” but even as he tried to deny Dean’s imagination, his own was on fire. Mouth to mouth. Tongues tangling… tasting. Their bodies sliding together. Friction building, making him want more... so much more.

He blinked and scrubbed his face with his hand. “Wrong… very very wrong. Dean.” Blowing out a breath, he countered Dean’s images with chaste one’s of his own. Holding, protecting, loving Dean the way he should… as a child of man, as a son. And yet his body was still tingling and he knew the temptation to re-imagine what he’d been shown would test him sorely.

* * *

Dean knew he probably shouldn’t have laughed as hard as he did, but he couldn’t help it. Samuel’s reaction had been even better than he’d anticipated, and when he saw the coffee shoot out of the angel’s nose, he couldn’t help howling with laughter.

Clutching his sides and practically falling out of his chair as tears streamed down his cheeks. Hearing Samuel try to ‘scold’ him all the while fighting not to laugh himself only had him laughing even harder, till he could barely breathe.

He didn’t understand what Samuel was trying to tell him. Angel’s didn’t? Well, sure, Dean had never before imagined an angel spewing coffee out of his nose, and maybe it was wrong of Dean to do that, but he couldn’t make himself regret it. Of course, that could have something to do with the fit of giggles he just couldn’t contain.

The new mental images he was picking up from the angel, replacing the one of them kissing as well as Samuel with coffee coming out of his nose, helped sober the young man more than anything else. Leaving him feeling warm and fuzzy inside, and maybe that was girly but it was also true. He smiled at the angel adoringly as he reached for a napkin and handed it to Samuel to wipe off his face.

_I love you._ He couldn’t help but think as their fingers brushed.

* * *

Sam didn’t know if it was just the touch of Dean’s fingers or the mental whisper, but a jolt of electricity went straight to his heart. Somehow he knew he should run, run as far and fast as he could because in his world, ‘trouble’ was spelled ‘Dean.’

Wiping at the coffee, he cleared his throat. “There are many kinds of love.” _Hot passionate love, the sort that leaves your breath ragged and twists your insides until you’re dying for the touch of another._ Sam blinked at the unbidden thought he was sure Dean heard. “This… _ours_ , is not that kind. It’s the sort your parents should have given you,” he said, this time firm in his conviction as he got up. “Most humans are drawn by angels… I don’t want to confuse you, or hurt you.” No, that was the last thing he wanted for this boy.

“There’s also the fact that I rescued you and I’m probably the first person you’ve kissed.” He shook his head ‘no’ before Dean could interject, “that other one doesn’t count… don’t think of him, that was abuse. What I’m trying to say is that you may think you’re falling for me, but one day soon, you’ll see… there are so many people in the world, so many who can and will make you happy in all the right ways.”

He knew he wasn’t being articulate, but he was trying damn hard to concentrate. And there he went again with the swearing. He inwardly sighed. “It’s hard to explain but say you never had ice cream, okay? And I gave you strawberry flavored ice cream. You’d think you love it, that you love it _best_. But that’s only because you have tried chocolate yet. It might be chocolate or vanilla or pistachio that you love best, but if you latched onto strawberry and didn’t give the others a try… you’d miss out.”

Collecting the plates, Sam took them to the kitchen. “We’ll leave as soon as I get these washed up.”

* * *

  
_Hot passionate love, the sort that leaves your breath ragged and twists your insides until you're dying for the touch of another._

Dean felt his cheeks flush and heat fill his stomach when he picked up on those words whispered into his mind. Well, maybe Samuel hadn't intended for him to hear it, but he did, and he couldn't get the words out of his head now or the images and feelings they produced inside of him.

But as Samuel went on to 'explain' that this wasn't the kind of love they had… Or would have… by the sound of what the angel was saying, Dean's smile faded, and his expression grew shadowed. He knew the angel wasn't trying to be hurtful or condescending, but that's still what it felt like to Dean.

He wasn't stupid. Maybe he didn't know a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid either. He knew the difference between gratefulness and love. Yes, he was grateful to Samuel for saving him, from Rick, from Hell itself. Taking him away from the asylum. Giving him a place to live. He was grateful for all of that, more than the angel might ever know.

But why couldn't he be grateful to Samuel and love him too?

Dean turned his face away from the angel, staring at his plate intently as his face warmed for a different reason when Samuel mentioned Rick. Telling him not to think of him, even as the angel spoke about him, and how was Dean not supposed to think about him then?

The man had done much more than 'kiss' him, since he was twelve years old. But Samuel kissing him, touching him, holding him, was the first time Dean had ever _liked_ it. The angel's arms around him made him feel safe when the other man's arms had only ever made him feel afraid. Maybe he and Samuel had been the only ones to ever touch him like that, but they weren't the only two people he'd ever known in his life, and he'd never felt for anyone like he felt for Samuel.

Why would he want to go out and meet 'other' people to make him 'happy' when he was happy with Samuel right now? Why did he need to go looking for something else when everything he'd ever wanted was right here?

No. Samuel was wrong. About _this_ he was wrong. Samuel was everything he'd ever waited for his whole life, and he wasn't going to let _anyone_ not even the angel himself try to convince him otherwise.

Dean lifted his eyes only when Samuel took his plate, his face set in a stubborn, almost angry look as he watched the angel go into the kitchen with the dirty dishes. Effectively dismissing him, his feelings, and the young man felt another sharp stab of hurt as he stood up abruptly.

_Maybe I like strawberries._ He thought stubbornly before he abruptly slammed the door on their mental link, locking his mind and emotions away behind a wall he somehow knew Samuel couldn't get around no matter how hard he might try.

Dean stormed off into the living room then. Throwing himself down onto the couch and turning on the television loud trying to drown out the hurt Samuel's rejection caused him.

* * *

It was like a door slammed, leaving Sam out in the cold. He tested their mental connection and found it was sealed. Already he missed the constant awareness of Dean that the link allowed. It was hard to explain what it felt like to be linked like that, and having never been one to feel loneliness, he wasn’t sure… but he thought what he felt now was comparable.

Fighting the instinct to go inside and comfort Dean, he went about washing the dishes and putting things away. A little hurt and anger now would be much better than bitter disappointment and much greater hurt if he let the young man dream of things that would never be. Only for a minute or two, he allowed himself the luxury of wondering how he’d feel, what he’d do if the rules did not stand in his way. He saw himself with another man at his side… Dean. If he weren’t centuries old, he too might have pouted.

Wiping his hands with a towel, he walked into the living room. The look on Dean’s face was all ‘rebellious teenager,’ though he was in his early twenties. Sam didn’t dare laugh, though he wanted to. “Time to go.”

He didn’t miss the fact that Dean didn’t look at him. “Come child,” he opened the door, and when he looked at Dean, the heat in that glare was almost palpable. He tried not to laugh, really he did… and it was only a closed mouthed laugh, which Dean could have missed.

A few minutes later, they were down at street level. Sam lead the way and allowed Dean to speed up or slow down at will, while he took in the sights and sounds. At least his anger didn’t seem to last and they were on talking terms again. They walked a long distance and even took the cable car up to the wharf. As far as Sam was concerned, he could do this forever… watch the expressions flit across Dean’s face, see him open mouthed with wonder, and then suddenly deliberately change his demeanor as if emulating some of the confident or cocky men walking around. He was trying to find out who Dean Winchester was, and in the process, was trying on some of the personas they came across.

“Just a minute,” he said, touching Dean’s back for him to stop at a sandwich shop. Sam went in and ordered both food and a drink, then came out and continued walking. When they reached the corner, he bent down and gave the food to an old homeless man sitting on the ground with a change can.

“Thanks Sam.”

“”Welcome. It’s gonna rain tonight, get some shelter.”

“Okay.”

“So… let’s cross the street and get you that haircut.” It was a quiet street, with no traffic. He could see Dean was eyeing the Walk/Don’t walk sign as they waited for it to go green. “Eh… stupid rule,” once again putting his hand behind Dean’s back, he rushed him across the street.

They walked inside the very modern looking salon, and Sam introduced Dean to one of the stylists. The stylist had Dean sit down as she rattled off some options, including lighting his hair.

Thinking Dean’s dark blond hair brought out those incredible eyes, Sam had a guttural reaction to the suggestion. _No, no color, it’s perfect.  
_  


* * *

When Samuel came into the living room and told him it was time to go Dean purposefully ignored him. He was still angry, and hurt, and he didn’t want to talk to the angel right now. He almost wished he’d gone into his own room instead and shut the door, sure that the angel would have just left him alone then.

But there wasn’t anything really to do in there. At least with the television he could pretend he wasn’t thinking about the conversation they’d just had. To pretend he wasn’t already missing the connection between himself and Samuel. Pretending he didn’t feel the cold lonely feeling that was filling his heart without it.

He’d been alone most of his life. Though he’d grown almost used to that feeling over the years, feeling it now after having a taste of something else was agonizing. But the young man was too stubborn to just reopen the connection, or better yet, throw himself into Samuel’s arms and just beg the angel to hold him always.

But Samuel didn’t want him to do that. The angel had made it clear enough. Another wave of sadness and loneliness had him slouching deeper into the cushions of the couch, though he covered it up with anger. Outright glaring at the angel when Samuel called him a ‘child’.

He wasn’t a child, god damn it! He wasn’t a baby, a kid, or even a teenager. He was grown up, and if he needed to show Samuel that he was grown up before the angel would take his feeling seriously…

Dean shut off the television and stood up with a huff. A new determination filling him as he followed the angel outside. He’d prove to Samuel he wasn’t a child. He’d learn everything the angel wanted to teach him, and then some. He’d show Samuel his feelings were real, and they weren’t going to change, damn it.

All he wanted was Samuel. He was all he would ever want.

So as they walked down the street Dean kept his eyes and ears open trying to absorb everything he saw and heard like a sponge. Trying to remember the names of places, streets, where they were going and where they’d been. He watched the people, since Samuel seemed to think it was so important that he fit in, he’d better start paying attention to how ‘normal’ people reacted to things.

It was fascinating, but he was still a bit nervous though, being outside like this in such a busy place, and gradually as they walked, Dean allowed the wall around his mind come down a little. Letting him feel the angel’s thoughts and feelings again, and he tried not to sigh in relief how much it comforted him. Even more than standing close to, or Samuel’s hand on his back did.

When the stopped at the small sandwich shop Dean watched the angel curiously for a moment, because they’d just eaten, but the young man smiled in understanding when Samuel gave the food to a guy on the street corner a little ways.

When the homeless man called the angel by name, Sam, Dean couldn’t help but wonder how many people Samuel had helped. Saved. Like him? Was that man one of them? Would he be? Was Sam helping him keeping him from doing the same for others? Was Dean being… selfish… to want Samuel to love him? Did Sam already… love someone else? Was that why he wasn’t taking him seriously? That thought didn’t sit well with the young man at all.

But it was difficult to hold onto depressing thoughts like that when Samuel was rushing him across the road against the ‘advice’ of the walk sign and Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little. Smiling at the angel and standing close to him to encourage more of similar touches.

Finally they arrived at the salon so he could get a the haircut Sam insisted he needed, and Dean was feeling nervous once more. This was another thing he hated, because it was never very pleasant. Getting his hair cut. He knew it would probably be nothing like when the nurses did it at the asylum, but that didn’t stop the young man from instinctively standing closer to the angel when the stylist greeted them.

When he was finally sitting in the chair, he couldn’t help feeling a bit overwhelmed as the woman quickly went over several options for getting his hair cut in different ways. Hearing the sound Samuel made, and picking up on the angel’s thought, when the woman suggested he color it had Dean grinning a little however. Casting a brief knowing glance at the angel before Dean shook his head at the stylist’s suggestion and continued looking through the book in his lap.

Finally he pointed to a picture in the book.

“Do you think this will look good?” He asked the woman. It was short. Simple, and looked fairly easy to keep up. But more important than that, it wouldn’t make him look like a kid.

* * *

“I think it will look fabulous.” She looked up at Sam.

“His hair, his choice.” His gaze shifted to Dean. “Good choice.”

After Dean came back from having his hair washed, their eyes met in the mirror. Sensing Dean’s slight agitation, Sam pulled a chair close and sat. When the stylist gave him a stern look, he merely smiled at her and headed off any criticism.

As her scissors snipped around Dean’s head, Sam spoke with him. You’re doing great. She’s very good. Lord help the world once you’re done, handsome. He smiled, knowing how much Dean liked getting compliments.

Soon, she was brushing stray hairs off Dean’s neck, and all three of them were admiring the cut. As Sam paid, he couldn’t take his eyes off Dean, and he wasn’t hiding it. When they walked out, he was still looking. Lead us not into temptation…

They spent the next couple of hours shopping and had way too many bags in hand. They dropped them off at the apartment, and then headed out again, this time to a small café for lunch. Sam ordered a soup and half sandwich and started to pull out some papers and a pen. Other diners were working on lap tops or reading. He loved this place, and thought it would be a nice relaxed atmosphere for Dean to take the tests that would show what his reading and writing skills were.

Once Dean ordered, he pushed the test papers in front of him. “Just some questions to answer, so we can see where you are and where you need help. Don’t look so worried, there’s no right or wrong. And after you’re done… we’ll go to Coldstone Ice-creamery. You’ll love it.”

* * *

Dean had to admit, he liked his haircut. But more than that, he liked the way Samuel looked at him afterwards. He could feel the angel’s eyes on him again and again and the young man pretended not to notice so Sam wouldn’t stop. But under the angel’s obvious admiring gaze he walked a little straighter. Held his head a little higher.

Then they went shopping.

They bought a lot of clothes. More clothes than Dean thought he could wear in his lifetime. He tried on all kinds of shirts and pants. Always watching Sam’s reaction carefully, and if the angel got ‘that’ look, as the younger man had begun to dub it, Dean would ask if they could buy it.

They didn’t just get him shirts and jeans this time though. They got him underwear, which Samuel wouldn’t let Dean model for him. They got him socks. A couple different pairs of shoes. One pair of boots, which was actually the young man’s favorite of them. They bought him bathroom stuff like shampoo, soap, a shaving kit, toothbrush.

They’d even stopped at a small grocery and Sam let him pick out some foods he liked. He’d always liked macaroni and cheese, it was probably the one thing he did like to eat at the asylum so he got several boxes of that. A few bags of chips. A jar of peanut butter and Samuel insisted on bread to go with it. Some soda, and a few other things Dean was willing to try. When they passed by the produce section, Dean grabbed a box of strawberries and threw them in the cart without a word.

After that they returned home briefly, put away the groceries that needed to be refrigerated, and then went out for lunch. Dean ordered a cheeseburger with all the toppings. Giving the angel a thoughtful look when Samuel pushed some papers and a pencil in front of him.

He suddenly wasn’t very hungry anymore when Sam explained they were tests, and Dean couldn’t help feeling nervous even though the angel told him not to be. After all, what if he took them and Sam decided he was stupid? He knew the angel wouldn’t throw him out on the street, but it would just be a sort of confirmation that Dean didn’t know anything, especially not his own feelings.

As Dean had suspected/feared most of the questions could have been in Greek for all he knew. The waitress brought him his cheeseburger, but the end of the pencil ended up having more teeth marks on it where he nervously bit it whenever he came to a difficult question, which was most of them.

_He’s going to think I’m stupid…_ The thought helplessly slipped out before he could stop it.

* * *

Sam quietly ate and looked out the window. His kitchen cabinets were now stuffed with ‘junk food.’ Junk food! Maybe if he mixed some broccoli in with that macaroni and cheese, he could give it some nutritional value. If he’d let Dean have his way completely, they’d have carried home crates of chips and crackers and some items Sam had the good fortune never to have laid eyes on before. But the strawberries... no, not the fruit, but that fiery rebellious look that sparked from Dean’s eyes when he’d picked them up and silently tossed them into the cart... Sam wouldn’t forget it, nor could he miss the meaning behind the gesture.

Waves of agitation from Dean washed over him. Just as he turned to reassure Dean, he heard his thoughts... his fears.

_No. He thinks you’re dangerously smart and clever. That you’re resourceful, and that it’s amazing how much you’ve picked up, how articulate you are, how much you know when no one bothered to formally teach you. He thinks it’s a miracle that your spirit isn’t crushed._ Putting his hand on the test paper, Sam pulled it from Dean and crushed it into a ball. _Stupid test._

Leaning close to Dean’s ear, he whispered. “I think for you, practical learning is the way to go. Now eat your food.” Without thinking, he reached out and used his thumb to wipe at a bit of ketchup on the corner of Dean’s mouth. When Dean’s tongue immediately cleaned the same spot, Sam swallowed hard and dragged his gaze away, fighting the temptation to follow the path of Dean’s tongue with his own.

* * *

Dean lifted his eyes to the angel, his cheeks warming slightly in embarrassment that Samuel had indeed picked up on his thoughts as the young man had feared. But he was even more surprised by what he ‘heard’ in return.

Smart… clever… resourceful… At first he almost thought that Samuel was teasing him somehow, because Dean didn’t think he was _any_ of those things. Not in the least, but he could see in the angel’s eyes he was completely serious, and the young man had no idea how to take these kinds of high compliments.

It was kind of like when Sam had called him ‘brave’, even though Dean couldn’t sleep alone without nightmares. Dean knew he wasn’t stupid but he knew he wasn’t smart or clever either. Why the angel thought those things… Dean didn’t know, and he couldn’t help being worried again that he would disappoint Samuel in the end when he proved not to be those things.

Sam surprised him again by reaching over and taking the test papers away from him and crumpling them up without even looking at them. Dean couldn’t help quirk an eyebrow and grin a little at the angel’s mutter, _stupid test._ Well, he certainly wasn’t going to complain about not having to take it.

Dean found himself holding his breath however when Samuel leaned close to him, his breath warm as the angel whispered into his ear, and the young man shivered a little. Which was a strange reaction he thought since he wasn’t cold, and he definitely wasn’t scared or anything of the sort. In fact he was quite warm, especially looking into the angel’s eyes when Sam wiped at the corner of his mouth gently with his thumb.

When his tongue darted out to lick the same spot, he saw _that_ look flash in the angel’s eyes again before Samuel looked away, and Dean smiled. Filing away the angel’s reaction, feeling like he’d won some kind of small victory.

Picking up his burger, he took a large bite from it. Now that he wasn’t so stressed about taking those tests, actually enjoying it and making little appreciative sounds as he ate. Using his tongue most of the time to lick his lips or fingers clean rather than his napkin. His eyes flickering up to Samuel every once in a while, a little knowing smile pulling at his lips every time he caught the angel watching him.

* * *

Every time Dean's tongue appeared, it was sheer torture. Heat coiled low in Sam's belly, his breath caught as he waited or the next time, and the next. And when he sucked the pad of his thumb, Sam knew he should look away.

Though shalt purge yourself of lustful thoughts and feelings. Sam did his best to obey the edict, but Dean made it so hard. Tested him sorely.

Later that afternoon, they headed for the park. On the way, Sam had them cut through a toy store known to have vintage toys. He could sense Dean's resistance... knew that he was thinking he was being treated like a child. Sam shook his head. "Everyone misses things from their past. We'll stay as long as you want. At least it's easy for you, any idea how hard it is to find the toys I used to play with?" He raised an eyebrow. "Try impossible."

Less than an hour later, they were sitting at a table in the park, overlooking the ocean. Sam had bought a pair of dice, and was teaching Dean to gamble. Well, at least that's what it looked like to those watching. In reality, he was awakening Dean's competitive nature, and teaching him how to count his dollars and cents. For good measure, he cheated on the amount that Dean won this round, and looked innocently into his green eyes.

* * *

After they left the restaurant they walked around some more and Dean found himself getting a little tired. After all, this was a lot more activity than he was used to at the asylum. Most of the time he just sat around and watched television, and he’d only gotten out of the hospital… yesterday? God, had it only been one day? It was almost hard to believe…

He hadn’t wanted to go into the toy store, despite Sam’s words, he didn’t want any real reminders of his past. But he let the angel lead him inside anyway. He purposefully didn’t look at any of the toys that reminded him of the ones he used to own as a kid. Though the old classic car models caught his attention for a long time.

Dean didn’t ask Samuel if they could buy anything from there however, since he was trying to prove to the angel that he wasn’t a kid and he didn’t think buying toys was the way to do that. He was a little surprised when Sam bought some dice, however, from the store.

He learned the reason why after they stopped in the park and Samuel began teaching him a few dice games, which the young man took to like a fish to water. The angel winning most of the time at first, but Dean was quickly catching up to him. Though they were only gambling with a few loose bits of dollars and change, the young man was very proud of his slowly growing pile.

“Hey!” Dean protested immediately when the angel tried to cheat him on his winnings, snatching two quarters out of Samuel’s pile with a playful glare. Though the effect was a bit ruined when the young man yawned behind his hand a second later.

* * *

"Hey, yourself," Sam laughed and gave over Dean's winnings. "Let's go home." Gathering his money and the dice, he put his hand behind Dean's back and started for home. "You know, if you're real tired, I can fly you."

The look he got, coupled with the feelings he sensed from Dean had him laughing again, and squeezing Dean's shoulder. "I take it pilot is out as a possible occupation for you down the road."

As they walked, he told Dean about the concept of 'odds.' While they'd played, he'd picked up on the fact that Dean was innately playing the odds. Telling him the theory behind it in as simple terms as he could, he let that sink in. "Alright, I think we'll do the ice cream store tomorrow. Don't pout," he tried to head Dean off at the pass.

They stopped at the restaurant near his place and ordered dessert, and then headed on inside. Somehow, Sam was able to talk Dean out of macaroni and cheese for dinner, and instead made them a healthy light meal. He had the sneaking suspicion that all of his explanations about nutrition were falling on deaf ears, but that didn't stop him.

After dinner, they sat in the living room. Sam had a book in hand. If Dean's movie selections of the night before was anything to go by, he'd need it. "If you want another bath, you can run the water. Or if you want me to show you how to work the shower..." Feeling the heat behind Dean's gaze, he quickly looked away. Many humans looked at him just like that, but he usually only saw the heat... didn't feel it in his heart and gut. It was unnerving.

* * *

As much as Dean liked it when Samuel touched or held him, when the angel suggested that they fly back home if he was tired, the young man’s expression changed to one of near horror that was only half joking.

Pilot? No thanks. He shook his head quickly at the suggestion, shuddering a little at the mere thought, but the angel’s arm around his shoulders had him grinning again in seconds. Walking as close to Samuel as he could in order to encourage the touch to linger.

Dean only pouted a little when the angel suggested that they get ice cream tomorrow. After all, he was tired, though he wouldn’t admit it aloud. He somehow wasn’t surprised when they stopped at the restaurant outside of the apartment to order dessert again.

Samuel cooked them dinner, Dean only grudgingly agreeing to something other than the macaroni and cheese that was sitting in the cabinets. The food was good, just like everything the angel had cooked for him so far, though Dean pointed out cheekily that macaroni would have been better.

Now Dean was lounging sprawled out on the couch, pleasantly full and pleasantly tired, with the remote in his hand flipping through channels for something to keep him occupied till bedtime. When Samuel suggested he could take a bath if he wanted, of course that only reminded Dean of last night… and this morning…

He could tell just from the way that Samuel averted his eyes, though not before Dean caught ‘that’ look again, the angel was thinking about the same thing. The young man grinned.

“I’ll take a bath.” He told the angel, still smiling, as he pushed himself up from the couch and walked to his room. Quickly grabbing the new pair of pajama bottoms that Samuel had bought for him today. Though leaving the top in his room. Before making his way into the bathroom. Leaving the door wide open this time as he started the water and stripped down. Getting in with a sigh of pleasure once the tub was filled.

Dean took his time in the bath this time, without the bubble mishap from last night. He washed himself using the new soap and shampoo Samuel had bought for him. He even played around with the controls for the jets, this time on purpose, and relaxed in the bubbling water with a sigh of near bliss.

His mind just as open as the door to the bathroom, Dean lazily began to touch himself like Samuel had shown him. Not feeling the least bit guilty because, after all, the angel wasn’t cooking this time, he thought with a small grin. Stroking his flesh slowly to hardness Dean moaned softly. Once more imagining Samuel’s hand touching him instead of his own, but he also imagined he was touching the angel the same way.

* * *

Reducing the volume and changing to the history channel, Sam put his legs up on the sofa and lay back with a couple of pillows under his head. Bathroom door wide open... figured. His boy Dean had no inhibitions, it seemed.

He read, and occasionally glanced at the t.v., sometimes smiling at the sound of water splashing and bubbling. What had scared Dean just the night before seemed to now be a favorite. He couldn't help but wonder what other new things he'd take to.

The warm, happy mental brushes of Dean's mind relaxed him... lulled him. He certainly wasn't expecting the sudden assault of intensely erotic images. As if hard wired to Dean, he felt the youth's sexual excitement... felt and heard him groan inside his mind. Before he could recover, he saw himself... in Dean's hand... felt Dean's hand squeezing his shaft. Oh God... oh God.... he broke out in a sweat, trying to fight the needs threatening to overwhelm him. His stomach clenched, his head pressed back into the pillow... holy... no... Unbidden, he found himself mentally responding by transmitting images of his mouth on Dean's... opening... opening for him. After all those hours of being teased by Dean's tongue flicking out, or the way he sucked on everything from his thumb, to the spoon to...

As he felt their tongues slide together, he jerked up to a sitting position. _Stop. Dean, close your mind... please._ He was trying desperately to slam his mind shut, but what had come easily to Dean didn't seem to be working as well for him. _Please... Angel's don't ..._  


* * *

Dean had, in no way, been expecting… what had happened. His hand stilling mid stroke on his flesh and his eyes opening wide with a gasp as images and feelings that weren’t his own came pouring over the mental link between himself and the angel.

Excitement. Desire. Need.

The feelings mixed with his own rather innocent desires, until he couldn’t really tell where Sam’s pleasure began and his ended, or vice versa. Making it all the more potent, overwhelming even, and he couldn’t stop the desperate sound that escaped his throat as his hand began moving again almost against his will.

His body suddenly feeling like every nerve ending was on fire. He swore he could feel, _really_ feel, Sam’s mouth on him. Kissing him. Their tongues touching and Dean whimpered helplessly as he stroked himself harder, faster. Responding in the same way. Sending back his pleasure from the mental touch as well as what he was doing to himself.

God… it felt like Samuel was really in here with him. Touching him, kissing him, and it felt so good…

At least, until he heard the angel’s desperate mental plea. For him to… _stop… please, stop…_ Samuel sounding almost… frightened. He felt the angel trying to pull away mentally, struggling but Dean was… too strong… Just like Dean himself used to struggle against Rick, in the beginning, begging the man not to do what he was going to do, what he was doing… his pleas falling on deaf ears as the man hurt him over and over.

Dean slammed the door on his mind so fast he felt intense pain shoot through his brain from the mental backlash. Leaving him reeling, and he almost didn’t hear the actual slamming of the bathroom door so hard the wood splintered a little. The door shutting and locking itself as the young man curled up into a ball in the bathtub, trembling like he was having a seizure. His arms wrapped around his knees, and sobbing uncontrollably.

Oh god, what had he done… what had he…

* * *

Self revulsion and panic slammed into Sam right before their connection was broken by Dean and he fell back and took a breath. He only realized the sound he'd heard was the physical slamming of the bathroom door after he scrambled from the sofa and tried to open it. It was locked.

"Dean. Dean!" he knocked. "Open this door, it's not what you think. Please open it." He tried to find their mental connection, tried to see what Dean was going through, but he was closed to him. "Dean!" Knocking one more time, he gave a warning. "I'm coming in."

The angel concentrated, and the door simply opened, allowing a gust of wind to enter behind him.

"Dean, no... no..." He felt his heart shred at the sight of Dean looking just the way had when he was being assaulted by Rick. "It's not like that, not at all." He put his hand out but for once, there was no response. Instead Dean just fell apart in front of his eyes.

Without thought, Samuel just stepped into the bathtub with his socks and clothes still on. He made some room next to Dean and pulled him into his arms. He could hear the chatter of Dean's teeth, he was shaking that badly. "Let me in again... Dean let me in," he pleaded.

Still no response. Sam had only wanted to protect himself from his own thoughts, he'd never wanted to break Dean. "It's not like that, not like Rick at all. Dean, I swear to you... I wasn't afraid, not of you. Of me." Lowering his head, he slanted his mouth over Dean's, tasting tears, and hurt, and an ache so deep he wondered if he could even heal it. _I'm sorry, so sorry... please let me in._  


* * *

The water was still warm, but all Dean felt was cold. Not from the outside, but inside. He wished the cold would have numbed him, but it didn't. It was intense, painful, freezing cold like his heart was pumping shards of ice through his veins instead of blood. Slicing up everything inside of him.

His stomach twisted, and twisted, and twisted. Like there was an actual hand reaching inside of his gut and squeezing and wrenching everything around. He felt sick. So sick. Worse than the first time Rick had ever come to his room.

The man had been sent there because the new medication the doctors had put him on made him vomit. After the man had… finished with him… and cleaned up the mess, Dean had all but crawled to the bathroom and been sick again. Again and again. Until he couldn't even throw up stomach acid anymore and all that was left was painful dry heaves. Crying helpless tears that never seemed to stop.

He wanted to be sick now. He doubted it would make him feel any better, but maybe it would purge some of the… evil… inside of him. Only nothing inside of him seemed to be working right. No matter how much his stomach clenched, no matter how nauseous or disgusting he felt inside, all he felt was increasing pain with no relief. Like the evil didn't want to leave him. Digging itself deeper inside of him.

He was evil. He had to be. For doing what he had to Samuel… after all the angel had done for him, he… Oh god… Dean could only squeeze his eyes shut and cry harder.

Though he heard Samuel's voice calling to him from the other side of the door, it sounded as though it were coming from very far away. Like he was hearing the angel from the other side of a long dark tunnel, or underwater. He simply drew in on himself further, shutting his mind away more.

It was like trying to hide in a dark corner where Samuel wouldn't be able to find him. Where he couldn't… hurt the angel anymore. He'd gone to this place sometimes. Hiding from Rick there while the man hurt him. Sometimes it made it easier, but it was hard to crawl out of the place once he hid. Very hard. Sometimes he got lost for days.

Trying to hide from himself was a lot harder…

The sudden warmth of arms surrounding him shocked him more than a little. Dean knew it was Samuel. Who else could it be? He had no strength at all to resist when the angel pulled him against his chest, and it only made him cry harder if it was possible.

How could the angel still touch him… How could Samuel even _look_ at him after what he'd done. This was way beyond a 'mistake'. This was…

_Let me in…_

No… No! He wouldn't hurt Samuel like that again! He wouldn't!

_It's not like that…_

What else could it possibly be like?

_I wasn't afraid…_

But he had been. He had felt it...

_Not of you. Of me._

He didn't understand… He didn't…

Dean felt the angel's soft warm lips brush his own and it almost made his heart stutter to a halt. It was so similar, and yet, different from what he felt before. He didn't understand why Samuel was doing this… he didn't understand… how could he if… The young man couldn't stop the whimper that escaped his lips as he felt the mental brushings of the angel's mind trying to reach him from behind the wall he had thrown up around him. Trying to reach him in the dark. In the cold. And he simply wasn't strong enough to resist their gentle plea.

The walls around his mind came crumbling down even as he crumbled against the angel's chest, clinging to Samuel desperately.

_I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…_ It was the only, mostly, coherent thought that repeated over and over in his head. Everything else overshadowed by the crushing weight of guilt, disgust, shame… and hate, all directed at himself.

* * *

As the barriers between their minds came down, Sam slipped inside. The maelstrom of emotions he found inside this man with whom he had a strange but wonderful connection pained him at soul level. The guilt and shame all but drowned Sam, who tried to swim through the dark waves of emotion to find Dean, to pull him out of it and into the sunshine, where he belonged.  
 _  
Don’t be sorry... don’t Dean. Nothing to be sorry about, I swear to you._ He held him tighter, his hand slipping down Dean’s bare back to pull him practically into his lap. Water splashed out of the tub, bones cracked against it and Sam wasn’t sure if it was him or Dean.

Resting his chin of Dean’s head, he closed his eyes. _You’re nothing like him. Nothing. If you believe any one thing I tell you, that’s the one you should believe._ The doubts were still there, swimming like sharks. Sam was desperate to reach him, to save him from the demons within.

_Look... look, this is your aura... this is how I see you._ Samuel let Dean literally feel the warmth coming from the sky blue swath that emanated around Dean, pulsing and flexing, growing hotter, and cooling slightly, but always pleasurable. _Don’t be afraid, I’m going to show you Rick’s._ He allowed Dean to see the red laced black, cold as ice aura for just a fraction of a second. _This is me._ This time, he showed him his own white aura, tinged with gold. _And this is me when I think of you._ His aura blazed so hot, it took his own breath away. A part of him had known, but looking and seeing was different.

_Come back to me. I’m not afraid of you. I was never afraid of you._ “Dean?” he said out loud, pulling away and demanding he look up at him. “Please forgive me for scaring you.”

* * *

Sam’s thoughts wrapped around his like a warm blanket against the bitter cold inside of him. A shield against every hurt Dean had ever felt in his life, and the young man couldn’t stop the small whimper of relief that escaped his throat when the angel pulled him into his lap. Holding him physically just as tightly, just as protectively, and the young man’s fingers clung to the angel’s wet shirt so tight his knuckles turned white. As though fearing if he didn’t hold onto Samuel tight enough the angel would be torn out of his arms, leaving him cold and alone once more.

He wanted to believe so badly what Samuel said. That he wasn’t anything like Rick. Dean didn’t _want_ to be anything like that man… But he just couldn’t forget the desperate fear he had heard in the angel’s voce as Samuel had begged him to stop. The way Sam had struggled to close the connection between them…

He had hurt Samuel. Somehow, he knew he must have hurt him, and until Sam began trying to struggle he hadn’t even realized it, didn’t that make him just as bad as Rick? Dean simply couldn’t bear that thought… of hurting Samuel. It was actually the _second_ time he had hurt the angel, though the first time had been truly unintentional…

No, he wouldn’t hurt Samuel anymore. He _wouldn’t_.

Dean started to pull away again. Started to push the barriers back up between them, no matter how much it hurt. No matter how cold he was, and how warm Samuel felt, he refused to hurt him again.

Before he could completely close off the connection again, however he felt something different coming from the angel. What he saw… he didn’t understand… auras? That… that was him? When the angel showed him Rick, Dean gasped sharply and recoiled a little in spite of the angel’s warning but it was gone less than a second later, replaced by Samuel’s own and Dean’s mouth fell open in wonder at what he was seeing. It was… perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Dean found himself reaching out to it instinctively. Wanting to touch… to be a part of that warmth. That light. Wanting to wrap himself around it. Twining them together like two different strands of thread until it became a single strand. To feel Sam all around him, inside of him. To be a part of Samuel in the same way…

When the angel drew away, Dean looked up at Samuel’s urging. Still more than a little overwhelmed by… everything… but he wasn’t crying anymore, and he was too relieved to even care about embarrassment. Sniffling softly and nodding even though he didn’t think Samuel had done anything that Dean needed to forgive.

“I… thought I hurt you… like he…” Dean tried to explain, even though he had a feeling he didn’t need to.

* * *

“No, it didn’t hurt… didn’t hurt, Dean,” Sam answered, shaking his head. “It was… _unbelievable_. Feel my heart,” he brought Dean’s hand over his chest. “Still running fast, because I liked it… not because I was hurting.”

He saw the questions in Dean’s intelligent eyes, and knew he wasn’t doing a good job of explaining himself. “I was startled by my own feelings. No one’s ever touched me like we were seeing,” he swallowed, recalling how intense his response had been. “I’m an angel, I’m supposed to help people, calm them… give them what they need. But I was taking pleasure, and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to taste you, to feel you… I wanted,” he bit his lip and gave a wry smile. “Things that I shouldn’t want. Rules,” he gave a shrug, accepting them though regret emanated from him.

He stroked the side of Dean’s face. “You can imagine me all you like, there’s nothing… nothing wrong with it. One day I’ll be replaced by another’s image, I know that. Until then, I’m honored, really I am.” It was going to be sheer torture, he knew it… he just knew it as the words left his mouth. “And I’ll just have to learn to close our connection if I find myself enjoying it too much.”

He looked down. “Now about this get Samuel wet in the tub every night thing… maybe baths aren’t your thing.” Raising his eyebrows, he added. “Might try the shower tomorrow, hmm?”

* * *

Dean looked down at his hand, pressed against the angel’s chest, feeling Sam’s rapid heartbeat underneath his palm and he let out a shaky breath. All but slumping in relief against the angel’s body as the cold panic he’d felt slowly bled out of him, leaving only the warmth of Sam’s body against his own.

Though there was still confusion written in his eyes when he looked back up into the angel’s eyes. He still didn’t really understand. If he hadn’t hurt Samuel, why had the angel been afraid? If he had liked it…

Samuel explained, or tried to, at least. No one had ever? Not even… himself? But the way Samuel had touched him this morning… The angel had said it was normal. That everyone did it…

Dean’s cheeks warmed, his breath hitching a little, when Samuel admitted that he had wanted to taste him. Touch him… God… He wanted that too. He had liked it so much when Samuel had touched him this morning. It had felt so good… so very good… he wanted… more. More like he was imagining before. More, like when he had felt the mental brush of Samuel’s lips kissing him.

The young man frowned a little when Sam said something about rules. What rules? He almost asked but the question died unspoken when the angel stroked his cheek and only a soft sigh left his lips instead as he leaned into the touch. His eyes locked with the angel’s longingly.

_No. Never._ There would never be another Dean would ever want to imagine, but the young man kept that thought to himself. He didn’t want Samuel to lecture him again like he had this morning. That they would never have that kind of love…

But… if he wanted it, and Samuel wanted it… why not? Because Samuel still thought of him like a child. That was the only explanation Dean could come up with, so… he would just have to wait and prove to the angel otherwise.

A real smile pulled at Dean’s lips when Samuel ‘complained’ about him getting him all wet again, and the young man found his eyes drifting down in spite of himself. They were practically plastered together. Dean naked, Samuel’s clothes soaked and clinging to his body in ways that left very little to the imagination and when the young man met the angel’s eyes again the heat in his cheeks was not from embarrassment.

In his mind he’d started to mentally strip Samuel out of his wet clothing, before he realized what he was doing and locked that thought away with a sheepish look.

“Sorry…”

* * *

Sam laughed, and hugged him for a second, kissing his cheek. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, I’d better get out of here and let you take your bath.”

He hadn’t realized how locked together they were until he had to virtually engage in acrobatics to separate himself from Dean, and then stand. Water dripped from his soaked clothes down into the tub. “Do I look as ridiculous as I feel?” he sighed.

Stepping out of the tub or walking all the way to his room like this was out of the question, unless he wanted to leave a stream of water in his wake. That meant he had to undress, which made him just a little uneasy after what had just happened. In other circumstances, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

He locked gazes with Dean for a moment. “You probably should turn around or… you know, get out and dried.” Right, in his dreams. That was the message he was getting from those rebellious eyes. “You’re imp…” unable to complete the thought, Sam simply laughed and pulled his shirt over his head. Squeezing the water out of it, he tossed it into the sink. Bending over, he got his socks off and tossed them as well, then straightened.

“Hmm.” It was all he could say seeing the curious look in Dean’s greens. He probably should order Dean to just leave, but he couldn’t crush his spirit for the second time in one night. Turning slightly so all Dean had was a side view at most, he popped the button of his jeans and worked the zipper, which was more difficult now that the material was wet. Pushing it down his legs was a task too, it clung to his wet skin. By the time he had it off, his heart was pounding just with the knowledge that Dean was still watching him. He could feel the weight of his gaze, but couldn’t bring himself to meet it.

He started for the waistband of his boxers, but changed his mind. Stepping out of the tub, he swung a towel around his waist, then slipped the wet shorts off, and tossed them into the sink. Drying off slightly, he muttered as he got to the door. “You can’t win every round,” he said, a bit victoriously. A much wiser voice inside his head whispered about winning battles but losing wars.

* * *

Dean felt so warm and happy when the angel hugged and kissed him thought he might just melt into a puddle of goo right there and he wouldn't have cared one bit. He almost pouted when Samuel suggested he get out of the tub so that he could finish his bath, but he let the angel untangle them. Looking up at Sam, and shaking his head slowly when the angel asked if he looked ridiculous.

Oh no… if there was one thing Samuel didn't look like it was that. His clothes sticking to him everywhere in all the right places. Dripping… no, definitely not ridiculous.

The young man licked his dry lips, raising an eyebrow when the angel 'suggested' he turn around. He didn't say anything, but apparently he didn't have to. His lips quirking in a grin at Samuel's frustation, however the grin quickly slipped off his face, his lips parting in a soft gasp when the angel stripped off his wet shirt.

Dean's eyes drank in the sight of Samuel's smooth muscled chest, glistening with warm water, like a man dying of thirst. His cheeks flushing even more as he imagined running his hands over the angel's skin. Feeling how warm… hard… how slick those strong muscles would feel beneath his fingertips.

He met Samuel's eyes again briefly before the angel turned away slightly, his hands going to the waistband of his jeans and Dean held his breath. Watching as Sam slowly forced the wet clingy material down his legs had the young man's heart beating faster.

Dean watched raptly as he waited for the angel to remove the last of his clothing, tilting his head a little for a better view, but when Sam stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist, the young man pouted. Letting out a huff of disappointment as Samuel walked out the door, however he caught the angel's soft words and a slow grin began to spread across his face despite his disappointment.

Because this was a game Dean was definitely determined to win in the end, and if he couldn't win by playing the rules… he'd cheat.

* * *

Samuel started pulling some clothes on. Unable to shake the intensity of Dean's fear and self-loathing at the moment he'd compared himself to Rick, he kept coming to the conclusion that Dean was fragile in ways that didn't meet the eye. Actually, he was a study in contrasts. One minute mouthing off about something with the arrogance of someone who could not possibly be wrong, the next questioning himself and calling himself stupid. Competitive and motivated enough to go after what he wanted…

That thought had the angel blowing out a hot breath. He knew Dean was focused on him for the moment and if he used everything he had… Sam was in trouble.

So yeah, motivated but easy to blindside or push off track or hurt.

He had to be careful around him, try not to injure his ego. The written exam had been a mistake too. He'd just have to be creative.

As he finished dressing, he tried to close his mind to Dean, but like before, he had great difficulty. _I'm just practicing_ , he explained. "And not doing a good job of it."

*

Fifteen minutes later, Samuel was sprawled on the sofa and dipping his spoon into velvety smooth chocolate mousse. Until recently, chocolate had been the only think he lusted after, or so he'd liked to joke. Glancing toward the hall, and still hearing nothing, he turned the t.v. on and set it to the history channel. _What's taking you so long? Are you trying on all your clothes again?_ He teased.

* * *

Dean mentally rolled his eyes when he heard the angel's teasing in his head. Not that he really minded it. Not at all. Samuel's thoughts were always warm and gentle, even when he was teasing him.

Actually the reason why he was taking so long was after he left the bathroom he'd gone back to his own room and stood naked in front of his mirror for a long time. Not admiring himself or anything. He was comparing his body to Samuel's, and frowning a little.

His body looked _nothing_ like the angel's, and he couldn't help but thinking, no wonder Samuel didn't want him. It wasn't that he was fat or anything, if anything he was a little on the thin side, but not scrawny. He was just… plain.

His muscles weren't nearly as well defined as the angel's was. Samuel looked like he was chiseled out of stone or something. He was… breathtaking.

Dean sighed softly. He wanted to look like Samuel did. So when the angel looked at him he'd think he was beautiful too… even though he knew he'd never be as beautiful as Samuel was.

The young man picked up his pajama bottoms to put on, but then changed his mind with a slight grin and dug out a pair of jeans Samuel had bought him today. They were black and had looked really good on him, but what the angel hadn't known was Dean switched out the pair he'd tried on with one size smaller before they left.

He pulled them on with nothing else, not even underwear, and smiled at himself in the mirror. The jeans hugged his hips and ass like a second skin, and though he zipped them up he left them unbuttoned. Adopting his most innocent expression as he made his way back to the living room where Samuel was waiting for him.

A smile tugging at his lips the way the angel was sprawled out on the couch, and Dean wasted no time taking advantage of it. Flopping down on the couch between Samuel's legs and laying back so that his head was pillowed on the angel's stomach. He made himself comfortable, smiling innocently up at Sam, before reaching for the remote and changing the channel to something more interesting.

* * *

Sam’s welcoming smile disappeared and was replaced by surprise when Dean made himself at home on top of him. His stomach clenched in reaction to his sudden awareness of the heat flowing to his groin just from the slight wiggles of Dean’s back. Well no, it wasn’t just that… it was the nearness of his face, it was the way his mouth parted as he looked up, it was how he stretched for the remote and revealed the smooth expanse of skin from his throat, down his chest and abs and…

Sam’s eyes quickly flicked up. What the… Was Dean trying to be one of the models portrayed on the Abercrombie & Fitch bags they’d carried back? Where else would he have gotten the idea that it was cool to leave his jean’s unbuttoned and go topless. Giving a long suffering sigh, he muttered, “once I set you loose on the world, you are gonna drive the ladies wild.”

And now that they were apparently channel surfing and Sam had no books at hand, it was a matter of being bored by what was on the screen or finding himself wanting to stroke and touch, yearning to explore Dean’s body in a way he had no business thinking about. ‘Beauty is only skin deep,’ he reminded himself, but the problem was that Dean was as beautiful on the inside, his mind was as intriguing as his looks. The way their minds could connect piqued Sam’s curiosity as much as it at other times inflamed his desire.

The heat from Dean’s body soaked into him, creeping up his body and ratcheting up his awareness. The intensity of the novel sensations had him holding his breath. He fought to keep his emotions in check, to keep what he was feeling at a slow burn and prevent it from taking him further down that slippery slope.

Sam’s concentration cracked and he bit down audibly hard on the spoon when Dean’s wriggles became almost too much. It was a good thing the boy couldn’t see his expression. “You should… you should sit up and eat your dessert,” he encouraged, his voice cracking slightly as he shifted to try to hide his erection. “Seriously, it’s delicious.”

* * *

Dean had been more than a little afraid that Samuel would tell him to get up or move away from him. Maybe even scold him a little for his chosen position, reclining against the angel.

But when Sam didn't the young man allowed himself to relax with a smile. Making a face briefly when the angel mentioned him driving the 'ladies' wild, even though a part of him was also pleased by the compliment. The only person he wanted to drive 'wild' however, was Samuel.

Right now he simply enjoyed the warmth of Sam's body soaking into his back. His attention split between the television and the pleasant heated feelings coming across their bond that made Dean's skin tingle and even more aware of the closeness of their bodies.

He tilted his head up to look at Samuel again when the angel mentioned his dessert. It did look interesting, and he wanted to try it. But…

His expression turned thoughtful as he weighed the benefits of moving from his current position, and since he couldn't really find any that outweighed remaining right where he was, Dean simply reached up to dip his finger in Samuel's dessert. Bringing his finger to his lips and sucking the chocolate off of it with a soft moan. Once it was clean, pulling his finger out of his mouth with a pop and a grin.

"More." He said happily, opening his mouth expectantly.

* * *

Eyes transfixed on Dean as he practically made love to his finger and topped the erotic image off with a moan, Samuel suddenly knew agony. The agony of wanting… needing… the agony of desire, of heat, of lust inching through your veins and making it difficult to think. Only for a second, he allowed himself to imagine pulling Dean up into his arms and tasting the chocolate off his mouth. Deep down, he knew it wouldn’t stop there, that this could easily turn into a forbidden obsession.

“Have the rest,” he said, his voice as strained as his body, as he placed the small plate on Dean’s stomach. His hand shook slightly, and he had to look away from that questioning gaze. “Use the spoon,” he swallowed hard at the image that came to mind… and it was no less tempting than the memory of Dean’s finger in his mouth. It was gonna be a long, long night.

* * *

Dean closed his mouth with a small frown.  


  
He wasn’t dumb, he was beginning to see a pattern, and he realized he pushed too far again. Made Samuel uncomfortable again, and that was the last thing Dean wanted. He wanted the angel to feel the way he did. To like having him close. To like touching him. To convince him that the ‘rules’, whatever they were, were stupid rules.

But he didn’t want Samuel afraid or uncomfortable.

Probably the only reason why Samuel hadn’t ordered him out of his lap or scolded him already, was because of what happened in the bath earlier. That made the young man feel a bit guilty as he took the angel’s dessert, as well as the spoon because Samuel insisted.

Dean flicked the channel back to the history one, even though it bored him terribly, because he knew it was the only channel Samuel seemed to like to watch. He ate the dessert quietly, trying not to move too much in the angel’s lap, or lick the spoon too much. All the while sending warm and comforting feelings over the mental link they shared, like Samuel often did for him.

When the young man finished the chocolate dessert he shifted to set the empty plate down on the coffee table and smiled up at the angel.

_Thank you._ He sent warmly, snuggling a little against the angel, and settling in to watch the TV quietly.

* * *

In the absence of additional stimulation, the foreign needs that seemed to have overtaken his body slowly eased and Sam was able to breathe again. He had to smile at the mind brushes he was receiving. Wasn’t that usually an angel’s job? To give another comfort? To reduce agitation? To calm?

_You’re welcome._ He had a feeling he should be thanking Dean for giving him peace, but instead he whispered, “change the channel. I’ve seen this several times.”

As Dean flipped through channels, Sam made note of the things that seemed to interest him. Some of it bored Sam to death, but some he actually enjoyed. When Dean stopped on the sports channel and they started to watch the NASCAR races, he had to admit he got into it. Mostly it was Dean’s reactions and cheers that got him interested, but he did know a thing or two about some of the drivers and his promise that they could go to a race in the near future drew such a warm reaction, you’d think Dean had just hit the lottery.

Hours passed just like that, and Sam found himself running his hands through Dean’s hair and stroking his face. “You’re like a pet cat, I can practically hear you purr,” he teased. “But your eyes are closing, let’s get you to bed.”

Because of his nightmare the night before, Sam walked Dean to his room and all but tucked him in. “Do you want me to leave the hall light on and we can leave your door open?”

* * *

Dean made a sleepy protest when Samuel suggested that he go to bed. Complaining that he wasn’t tired, even though he could barely keep his eyes open. He was exhausted actually, and he knew it. He just didn’t want to move. He didn’t want Samuel to stop petting his hair like he was, and he half hoped if he fell asleep in the angel’s lap like this they could stay this way for the rest of the night.

No such luck it seemed, and the young man pouted impressively as the angel helped him up and guided him into his room. Samuel pulling back the covers and easing him down into the bed. Covering him up.

The young man’s eyes were already closing again as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he reached out to grasp the angel’s hand anyway before Sam could move away.

“Can’t you just… stay with me again?” Dean asked hopefully. Knowing this probably wasn’t the way to convince Samuel he was ‘grown up’ if he didn’t want to sleep alone with the door open _and_ a light on. But right now he was more concerned with the angel not leaving him alone than Sam thinking him a child.

* * *

Sam closed his hand around Dean’s and squeezed. One thing the young man had lacked all of his life was being touched, and Sam was making up for it the best way he could. “You’re safe, Dean. Trust me, nothing… nothing will get in here. There’s nothing out there that wants to tangle with me in my territory.” His eyebrows were raised in reassurance, “I’m not all peace, love and halos, you know?”

Chuckling, he bent over Dean and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Then saying a short bed time prayer, he let his hand go and walked out, leaving the door slightly cracked open so he could see the light from the hall. _I’m only a thought away._ Staying only a moment longer, he walked away.

A few hours later, Sam was sitting in bed, with pillows piled behind his back and eyes trained on the screen of his lap top. He was actively monitoring potential hot spots around the world where there was more than usual demonic activity. That could be a sign of the expansion of hell… something that had to be stopped at all costs. He rubbed his eyes as he waited for final stats on North America to pop up.

* * *

Dean couldn't help but smile a little when Sam explained that he wasn't all 'peace, love, and halos'.

No, the young man definitely didn't think that. Not after seeing what the angel had done to the hospital director. He shivered a little at the memory of watching the angel and the demon fight over him. Dean knew he would never think of angels quite the same way again.

But it wasn't what was 'out there' that Dean was afraid of. At least, not while he was here with Samuel in his apartment. Dean had never felt so safe anywhere in his life as he felt here. It was just…

He didn't want to have nightmares… He'd had nightmares most of his life, every night, and he had no control over them. It didn't help that almost everything he dreamed of was real. Real memories, not his imagination. Memories of Hell. Memories of Rick. His years at the asylum. Every frightening thing he had seen as a child, that they'd told him was only his imagination, but was real…

He knew they were all waiting for him. In the darkness. Waiting him to close his eyes. Waiting for when he was completely defenseless, and then they would strike.

The only time he didn't have nightmares was when Samuel was with him. He wanted argue, try to convince the angel to change his mind, but he also didn't want to look like a baby… so he simply nodded. Forcing himself to release Samuel's hand when the angel pulled away, even though he didn't want to. His eyes following the angel until he was out of sight, and even then Dean didn't look away from the doorway for a long time.

***

The young man stared at the clock on his bedside table. The glowing green numbers felt like they were burning into the back of his skull. It was well after midnight. His eyes had drifted closed a few times, only to startle awake before he could really fall into a deep sleep. Nightmares starting almost as soon as his eyes shut. Dean tried to think of good things instead. The day he'd spent with Samuel. Hoping he'd dream of that instead, but it wasn't working. Every time he closed his eyes he'd see Rick, or the hospital director, or the demons in hell that wanted to tear him to shreds.

He tried to hide his growing agitation from Samuel. Wanting to prove to the angel that he could do this, at least. That he wasn't completely helpless. He wasn't a child… But after startling awake for possibly the tenth time, Dean made a helpless sound in the back of his throat as he pushed aside his covers and climbed out of bed. Every step he took towards Samuel's room hesitant, arguing with himself every step of the way. Until he finally stood in the angel's doorway.

Samuel was still awake. Working on a laptop and didn't seem to notice him yet. A part of him insisted he should go back to his room right now before the angel did, but instead he just stood there like he was rooted in place. Biting his lip nervously, trying to think of something to say.

* * *

Feeling Dean's presence, Samuel looked up. If he hadn't seen the flash of uncertainty in Dean's eyes, or felt him being torn between his need for comfort and his fear of what Sam might think, he might have told him to go back to his room. Instead, he closed his computer, set it aside and raised the duvet up. "Come on."

As Dean scrambled inside the bed, Sam shut the lights and turned again, this time pulling Dean into his arms and holding him tight against his chest, allowing him to feel his warmth and giving all the comfort he could offer. "It will get better, I promise, it will," he said, stroking Dean's smooth bare back. "You've had a hard life, harder than most in this country."

He felt a shudder run through Dean, and knew that there were some wounds that only time could heal. "You're used to a world of nightmares, and your body and mind haven't adjusted to these new circumstances. It'll happen, maybe slowly… but it will. You just have to keep trying, alright? It's all I expect of you. So long as you try, you won't disappoint me." He sensed that was a huge concern that Dean shouldered, and that no matter how many times he told him that he wouldn't get thrown out, the fear would always be there. "Life is full of successes and failures. There is only one who is infallible, and the rest of us… we can only try. Hmm?"

* * *

The relief the young man felt when Samuel looked up at him and then set aside the laptop and lifted his covers in invitation was almost enough to make him weak in the knees. Dean wasted no time then crawling into the bed next to the angel and pressing himself close.

Muscles that had been tense all night as he’d tried to sleep in his own bed finally unknotting when Sam wrapped his arms around him. A gentle hand stroking away any lingering anxiety and he let out a shuddering sigh as he relaxed against the angel’s chest.

He nodded slightly in understanding, but exhaustion was already beginning to pull him under towards sleep. He simply couldn’t keep his eyes open even if he wanted to just enjoy being wrapped up in the angel’s warm comforting arms for just a little while longer.

_I love you._ The thought slipped out before he could stop it, but almost before he even realized it had, Dean had already fallen asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

As they walked briskly up the steep hill, Sam couldn't believe a month had passed in the blink of an eye. No, what he couldn't believe was what a difference lonly a month had made. In that short period of time, almost all signs of the shy boy he'd brought out of the asylum were gone. Of course he'd caught glimpses of his cocky side, and the mischief he was capable of, not to mention his fearsome determination. These traits were manifesting more and more as his confidence grew. Sam had to tell him several times that it was a good thing he was charming because some of the things that came out of his mouth were downright arrogant. Boy… he sure loved compliments.  


  
They'd learned pretty quick that book learning was not Dean's area of interest. Stacks and stacks of books from the library worked like a charm… to put him to sleep! The only books he'd gotten into at all were car related, especially classics. He sometimes read them or Car Magazine or Car Collectors Magazine on those occasions that they ate up on the roof, and Sam would follow by reading for a while.

To get him to read more, Sam got in the habit of asking him to read from the newspaper as he made breakfast. Already Dean had stopped being self conscious and was reading very smoothly instead of stuttering over words. He'd learned how to use a dictionary too, though he constantly pushed for short cuts like asking Sam what something meant or grabbing his lap top. And some of the things Sam had found downloaded into his pristine lap top… it made him think that Dean might need his own.

They'd gotten into many routines. Watching t.v. with Dean's head on his chest or in his lap was… well, not what he'd expected, but it had happened. That and finding him in his bed virtually every night. Wanting him to be able to stand on his own, the only reason Sam let him in was that he knew the underlying agitation and fears were still there, eating away at Dean in the dark. He told himself he'd allow him to crawl into his bed until he was ready to sleep a whole night in his own bed alone, but the thought… oddly, it saddened him.

Not so odd, he told himself. He could be quite the creature of habit. That's what it was.

Dean could be wicked too. Sending him thoughts he shouldn't. Sometimes he had Sam tied up in ways angel's definitely shouldn't be, and other times, he had him in stitches. They laughed a lot. And the tears were very few nowadays.

Feeling Dean's glance, he turned and smiled. "We're almost there. You're sure you know how to get back? I could come get you if you want." He'd explained that Dean would get practical training from someone else twice a week and been surprised at the lack of protest.

* * *

Dean walked next to Samuel. Keeping up with the angel's quick pace even when going up the steep hill, something the young man hadn't been able to do not so long ago.

It was amazing what regular nutritious meals, light but regular exercise, and full nights of sleep could accomplish even in such a short span of time. Not to mention the fact that his body was getting used to being off the heavy drugs he'd been on for half his life. Drugs that had kept him feeling so sluggish or queasy half the time he could do hardly more than sit up or lay down through the day.

He could feel himself getting stronger. Every day. Quickly regaining what strength he'd lost in his attempted suicide, and then some. Beyond walking every day with Samuel he'd begun exercising on his own a bit. Just a few sit-ups and push-ups, trying to do a little more every day, and it made him feel good. Better than he ever had in his life.

Life with Samuel was… so unlike all of his life before it was like he was in a different world completely.

In the morning he would wake up feeling warm and safe, protected, in the angel's arms. Fully rested because he'd been able to sleep through the night without bad dreams. Relaxed, knowing he no longer had to be afraid of what might happen to him in the morning. What the doctors, nurses, or… anyone else… might do to him. Not having to be afraid of 'hallucinations' or thinking he was crazy was also a huge weight off his shoulders.

He hadn't even seen anything like… that… since Samuel had taken him out of the asylum. Except for the hospital director as they were leaving of course. Dean almost began to hope that he'd never see anything like that again, that maybe Sam had somehow 'fixed' him and now he was normal. Like everyone else.

He could only hope…

As Samuel had predicted, he had fallen quickly into a routine. Different from any he'd ever had at the asylum and it had been a good thing. After Samuel made him get up, he'd exercise, take a shower, and then join the angel helping him make breakfast.

Sam had started making him read the newspaper aloud, which he hadn't liked so much, but Samuel insisted that he practice reading for at least an hour a day. He knew Sam thought it was important, so he did it with little complaint. Though some of the books the angel had gotten for him bored him absolutely to tears. On one of their excursions in the city however Dean had managed to find some magazines that interested him and he read those, which seemed to satisfy Samuel for now. It had been slow going at first, it had been so long since Dean had read anything as complicated as a book or magazine, but he gradually got the hang of it again.

After breakfast, sometimes Samuel would take him out and they'd walk around. They went back to the park practically every day at some point. The angel had even taken him to the museum one day, and Dean had been fascinated by the dinosaur exhibit.

Most of the day though, the angel let him find things to do that _he_ liked. Which had been rather difficult at first because Dean had absolutely no idea what he liked. He watched a lot of television. He loved cable TV. So much better than the crap they'd only been allowed to watch at the asylum. He listened to a lot of music. Classic rock was probably his favorite, he'd decided. Sometimes he'd play around on Sam's laptop when the angel wasn't using it. Looking up information on cars, or anything else he could think of.

Yes, he'd even looked up sex. The young man had been rather shocked when he found out just how _much_ information there was on it on the internet. Much more… detailed… than the pamphlet that the angel had gotten him on sex education like they taught kids in middle school. Pictures and videos… a lot he was sure that Samuel probably wouldn't approve of him looking at.

Especially when it made his erotic fantasies involving him and Samuel as far more… well… detailed. Dean tried to keep most of that to himself however, considering what just imagining them kissing and touching had done to Samuel before. He didn't want to give the angel a heart attack or something.

Not everything he'd found had been pleasant unfortunately. A lot of it had reminded him of… Rick… things the older man had done to him… when he first saw it and left him feeling a little sick. He'd stumbled almost by accident on a website about rape, and while it had been difficult to read, it had also comforted him in some ways. Knowing now that what that man had done to him had meant to hurt, meant to cause pain, and that it wasn't supposed to be like that. It was another huge weight off his shoulders.

He didn't feel dirty, or bad anymore when he imagined him and Samuel together like that. But it was also frustrating because… he wanted to do more than just imagine. But the angel hadn't touched him like that since the first day he'd shown him how. He wanted so badly for Sam to touch him like that again, to kiss him, hold him, love him, sometimes he couldn't think about anything else and he knew when those thoughts began to leak over their bond by the way Samuel would grow quiet and fidgety around him.

His favorite part of the day was probably when he spent it curled up with Samuel on the couch watching television. The angel's fingers stroking his hair, the side of his face, or shoulder. Petting him like he was some over pampered house pet, but Dean hardly cared about that analogy. He just loved it whenever Samuel touched him. Though it was so relaxing he found himself practically falling asleep on the angel more than once and he didn't want that because he didn't want Sam to suggest he go to bed. He wanted to stay that way for as long as he could.

When the angel finally did insist he go to bed, he made Dean go to his own room. The young man would pout a little, but he didn't protest too much. He'd promised he'd try after all. Sometimes he would make it half the night, or sometimes only an hour before the nightmares woke him and he ended up back in Samuel's bed. The angel never refused him, simply lifting up his covers so Dean could slide in next to him and holding him. Soothing him until Dean fell asleep again peacefully for the rest of the night.

Dean was pulled out of his musings when Samuel spoke and he looked over at the angel with a small grin. He'd actually been very excited when Sam told him where they were going. He felt kind of like a kid on his first day of school, but this was bound to be a lot more fun than what he remembered of school. It was a little funny though how Samuel seemed a lot more worried about this than he was, and he couldn't help chuckling a little at the angel's question.

"I remember the way, don't worry. I've got your cell number, and my lunch money, and I promise to play nice with the other kids, mommy." He said, grinning cheekily. He was actually very determined to show Samuel that he could do this.

* * *

“Did you call me mommy? Insolent brat, let’s go.” Putting his hand behind Dean’s back, he walked him to the entrance of Bobby’s Garage and Body Shop.

“Sam.” A gravelly voice was heard first, before Bobby came out of a connecting room to what served as his office. “So this is Dean.” Rubbing the grease off his palms with a towel, Bobby greeted him. “Sam here says you’re interested in getting firsthand experience in fixing cars up.” He laughed, “nothing free labor to make a man want to learn faster.”

“He’s a quick learner, believe me.” Sam clapped Dean on the arm, and stood there while the two men chatted for a few minutes. Every once in a while, he felt Bobby’s gaze slide to him, and just smiled.

“I think we got it from here, Sam.”

“Yup, I think you do.” Leaning against the desk, Sam ran his finger over its dusty top and made a face.

“I don’t need a cleaner too.”

“What?” Sam’s gaze met Bobby’s. “Oh.”

“Yeah, stop acting like you’re dropping your kid off on the first day of kindergarten. He’ll be fine. Dean, go grab one of those safety sheets there, read it over, sign… drop it on the table and come on back.” Tossing the towel down, Bobby headed out of the office.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Sam assured Dean. “Let’s look at the safety sheet and make sure you understand everything on it.”

* * *

Dean knew he liked Bobby almost immediately. The older man was a little on the gruff side, and normally that would have made him very nervous. But knowing that Samuel trusted him made the younger man feel much less shy or self conscious as he'd normally feel around strangers.

They'd started talking about cars almost immediately. Bobby telling him a little of what Dean would learn while he was here, and the younger man was all too happy to chat away about what he'd read in some of his magazines. Bobby seeming like he was actually interested in what he had to say, nodding and listening to him intently when most of the people he'd known through his life were all too ready to dismiss the ramblings of the 'little crazy'.

Not that Samuel had ever treated him that way. But Dean knew his rambling about transmissions one night had nearly put the angel to sleep about as well as when Sam had tried getting him to read Shakespeare. So it would definitely be nice to have someone to talk to who was interested in cars too, not to mention teaching him how to fix them up.

Dean glanced over at Samuel however, realizing as Bobby apparently already had, the angel's reluctance to leave him here alone. Grinning and laughing softly when the older man mentioned Sam dropping him off on his first day of kindergarten. Not so far from the truth, he supposed.

The younger man nodded in understanding when Bobby left and went to get one of the sheets he mentioned. Letting Sam read it over with him, assuring the angel that he understood everything on it twice, before he signed it.

When Samuel continued to 'hover' Dean couldn't help but laugh softly, stepping up to the angel and wrapping his arms around Sam's waist. Sending reassuring thoughts over their mental link.

"I'll be fine, I promise. I won't lose any fingers, poke out an eye, or even decapitate myself." He said seriously, however he couldn't help chuckling again at the look on Samuel's face after he said that. On a whim, he leaned in to kiss the angel's lips softly. Something he hadn't dared to do often, but now he couldn't seem to help himself.

Smiling and blushing a little, Dean stepped away from the angel then.

"I'll see you at home." He said as he turned to follow Bobby out into the garage.

* * *

There was heat, where there should be warmth. Sam’s mouth tingled, and he drew a deep breath. “Home... yes.”

He stayed there for a few minutes, knowing he should leave. Part of what he was teaching Dean was independence. And yet... those safety warnings... and Dean could be so careless... maybe he should stay for just a while.

Shifting so most humans couldn’t see him, Sam walked in behind Dean. _Don’t say anything out loud, they can’t see me._ He tried to be quiet, and to look attentive as Bobby started to point inside the hood of an old car and tell Dean what each part was and it’s function.

He was mid-yawn when Bobby gave Dean a task, and walked through another set of doors to go out back to the body shop area. Apparently Bobby didn’t like to ‘hover.’

* * *

Dean almost couldn’t believe it when Samuel made himself ‘invisible’ and followed him out into the garage. He made some shooing motions with his hands that weren’t so obvious, but stopped when he realized how weird he must look, and mentally sighed.

_I’ll be fine, Sam. Really._ He tried to reassure yet again over their link, but either the angel didn’t hear him or chose to pretend he didn’t. Dean sighed aloud this time, and did his best to try to ignore Samuel for the moment. Since no one else could see the angel right now, and he didn’t want Bobby to think he was weird or something for talking to or looking at nothing there.

He’d gotten that enough during his life.

The young man was very interested in what Bobby was showing him, and it almost distracted him enough to almost forget that Samuel was there. But after a while the angel’s boredom began to leak through their bond, and when the older man gave him something to do and left, Dean finally turned to look at Sam.

“You’re distracting me.” He complained.

* * *

"Turnabout's fair play," Sam countered, giving Dean a look. At least he wasn't working Dean up into a state at an inopportune moment.

He was about to say more when a blonde with her hair in a ponytail walked in.

_That's Nicole, she helps Bobby with the accounting._

"Bobby... oh... hi, and definitely not Bobby," an appreciative gleam lit up Nicole's eyes. Bobby must have taken her advice of getting some hot mechanics in order to draw in more business from women. Course she'd been joking. "I help Bobby with the accounting."

_She's a student at San Francisco City College._

"I go to SFCC, work here part time..."

_She's studying to be a teacher_.

"... I think I want to go into teaching. And..."

_She's very chatty._

"... I know I'm talking a lot. I'd better find Bobby, then I'll be back." Without giving the new mechanic a chance to answer, she slipped out the door.

"She likes you." Sam smiled. "Just about your age. You should ask her to go to lunch, she can show you around the area."

* * *

Dean rolled his eyes a little at Samuel's reply, and ok maybe it was fair, but he certainly wasn't going to admit it. He was _so_ going to get the angel back for it later though. He also kept that to himself.

Before the young man could say anything more or get back to work someone walked into the garage, drawing his attention away from the angel.

Dean had a hard time not frowning as he listened to the young woman chatting away aloud while Sam talked in his head. In fact, it was all he could do to keep the annoyance off his face hearing the same conversation virtually in stereo.

Thank god she finally walked away. At Samuel's 'suggestion' however, he turned to the angel with a mild glare. He knew what Sam was doing. This was about the whole 'strawberry' thing again.

"No thanks." He snorted, completely uninterested, and turned his attention back to under the hood of the car. Undoing some of the plugs to take the battery out of the car like Bobby had asked him to. He was already taking a lot longer than he should and he didn't want the older man to come back and find him not done.

* * *

"She's pretty," Sam insisted, staring at Dean's back. "You should socialize with people your own age. With her motor mouth there won't be any awkward silences, if you're worried."

Still silence. The angel sighed and walked up to the car to look under its hood. He really should read up on cars, if only the topic didn't make him so sleepy. And here Dean was practically stroking the engine parts and having eyes for nothing but the machinery. _If you looked at her like that I'm sure she'd purr for you,_ he teased, and slapped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Seriously, you should try to at least be friends with her. Maybe go to the movies. I didn't say girlfriend."

He managed to stay quiet when Bobby came back, checked on Dean's progress and gave him some new instructions. Nicole was with him.

_She's looking at you. She likes you, stop ignoring her. It's rude._

"Lets get those bills paid and then you can gawk at my new mechanic," Bobby said gruffly walking back into his office with his part time office help in tow.

Sam pushed Dean. "Rude," he nodded.

* * *

Dean did his best to ignore Samuel, focusing on his work instead. Some of his annoyance at the angel’s insistence leaking through their bond, his only response. What, just because she was ‘pretty’ he was supposed to marry her or something? What if he didn’t like ‘chatty’? Had Samuel ever thought of that? He didn’t want to ‘socialize’. He didn’t want to go out with girls. He only wanted Samuel.

_I’d rather make you purr._ The young man thought to himself with a little sigh. Shaking his head.

At least Samuel was quiet when Bobby came back to see how he was doing and to give him more instructions. Dean completely ignored the girl more to annoy Sam than anything else. After all, it wasn’t like he disliked her. He didn’t even _know_ her, but at the same time, he didn’t really want to.

He made a face when Samuel called him rude. He wondered if this was how the angel was going to react every single time he ‘met’ someone new. Well, if Samuel was going to be annoying…

A somewhat wicked gleam entered the young man’s eyes and the angel probably should have been a little afraid if he could see it. He shifted his legs apart a little as he bent over the hood of the car. Reaching far, letting his t-shirt ride up.

Conjuring up a picture in his mind and purposefully letting it leak over to the angel. Of Samuel stepping up behind him as he was bent over. The angel’s hands grasping his hips as he leaned into him. Bending over him, pressing his chest against his back, Sam’s lips at his neck.

Though he had been trying to tease the angel, Dean’s breath hitched a little at the unexpected spike of desire that shot through him at his own fantasy.

* * *

Sam was simultaneously preparing to argue that Dean should pay at least as much attention to Nicole as to Bobby and that angels most definitely did _not_ purr, when he found his breath suddenly coming out in a rush, and a now all too familiar heat welling up in him. Caught unaware, he found himself stepping toward Dean, needing to touch him… to bring their bodies close the way he’d seen it in his head.

He could have stopped or pulled back, but he didn’t. Closing the gap between them, he put his arms around Dean’s waist, his fingers sliding over the warm sliver of skin showing above his waistband. The sensation of taut muscles rippling against his chest, the brush of his jean clad body against Dean’s, and the feelings emanating through their link was almost overwhelming. A strange heaviness settled in his body, and his skin tightened.

Jesu-- Biting his lip, he leaned in and whispered against Dean’s ear. “Not nice to tease an angel. Sometimes they tease back.” Allowing Dean to feel how he’d affected him both physically and emotionally, he added, _don’t lose any fingers._

Then he was gone.

* * *

The young man was in no way prepared for the force of the feelings that slammed into him when his fantasy suddenly became reality. When the warmth of the body pressing behind him was suddenly real and not only his imagination. When the fingers touching his bare skin made him shiver and grow hot at the same time. When he pressed back against the strength of the angel’s chest, a choked moan catching in his throat feeling Samuel’s crotch pressed firmly against the swell of his ass.

Dean’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft whimper escaping his parted lips feeling the warm whisper against his ear. The words themselves almost meaningless to him, lost in the sound of his heavy breaths and thundering heart.

“Sam…” His whisper was a plea, for what he wasn’t even sure, but Samuel was already moving away and by the time Dean turned around the angel was gone.

He let out a long breath, leaning against the hood of the car for a few minutes with his eyes closed trying to calm his racing heart. Get his breathing back under control, and stamp down on his arousal still pumping like liquid fire through his veins so he could think clearly again.

With a muttered curse, Dean took off his long sleeved shirt and tied it around his waist to hide his erection. Trying to focus once more on the car and not Samuel, though it was proving a difficult task even now that the angel was gone. Oh, Samuel was _so_ going to get it when he got home.

A small smile curved the young man’s lips.

He couldn’t wait.

* * *

  
Victory was of little consolation if it made you suffer. That was Sam’s conclusion about his strategy with Dean in the morning. It had misfired. Gloriously. And his suffering kept emerging during the day, each time his mind went back to that brief moment when he’d held Dean close, not like a child, not to comfort, but like a lover.

Hours later, after he’d accomplished endless errands and finished up a difficult research project that he’d turned in to the Council, he’d returned home with a few groceries and a tub of ice cream. _Chocolate._

Though he liked to think that he’d finished his research because he hadn’t been talking with Dean, or answering his questions or worrying about him being bored, the truth was he’d missed having him there like a sounding board. All day long, he hadn’t even attempted to brush his mind, but that didn’t mean the urge wasn’t there.

He looked at the clock for the tenth time, wondering if he ought to just go find him. No, he needed to learn independence and Sam wouldn’t be selfish. If he got in trouble, he had his cell, and he could call him using the link. He was fine. He was a grown man, there was no reason to worry.

Right. And that was why Sam was sitting with a cup of tea and a newspaper, his eyes glued to the window as he searched for signs of Dean’s arrival.

* * *

Dean walked briskly, humming Metallica happily under his breath, as he returned home from Bobby’s garage. He hadn’t been able to wash all the grease out from under his fingernails and there was even a little smudged on his face but he didn’t care. He rather liked it, in fact.

He’d learned so much just working for Bobby for one day, and the older man had even told him he’d done a good job before he left, leaving the younger man glowing all the way home. He couldn’t wait to go back to the garage later on in the week, but it wasn’t that excitement that had him quickening his pace, grinning wider, as he neared his and Samuel’s apartment.

He couldn’t help thinking all day about that brief moment when the angel had been pressed up behind him. Replaying the moment over and over in his head. Drawing it out. Adding to it. He’d been half hard for most of the day, making it a little hard to concentrate, and right now he wanted nothing more than a repeat of the experience… and more…

Dean used the key Samuel had given him to let himself inside the apartment. His smile widening when he saw the angel sitting in a chair over by the window, smiling in greeting back at him. The young man wasted no time closing the distance between them, keeping his thoughts carefully shielded so the angel wouldn’t bolt before…

Though the slightly naughty glint in his eyes might have given him away, but not before he sat down, straddling the angel’s lap, his knees on either side of Sam while his arms went around the angel’s neck. Effectively trapping him there as Dean pressed his mouth to Samuel’s with a low moan. Letting all of the arousal he’d felt all day flood over their bond as he licked the angel’s lips, seeking entry.

* * *

He’d had no warning, no time to prepare for the assault on his senses. Caught in the grips of Dean’s feverish needs and wants echoed and multiplied by his own, Sam grew painfully hard. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide and every motion just brought him closer to Dean. Awareness and need slammed into him so hard, he couldn’t breathe.

_Dean?_ The question was burned out of his mind the instant Dean leaned in and brought their mouths together. A soft sound escaped Samuel, and then he was lost. He opened his mouth for Dean, letting Dean’s tongue push inside. Just one stroke of Dean’s tongue, and Sam was swamped by hunger like he’d never experienced before, so intense, so seductive, he couldn’t resist.

One of his hands slipped up Dean’s chest, and he could feel the boy’s heart slamming against his chest. Oh God, should this be affecting him like this? He didn’t know, but without thinking he put both arms around Dean and dragged him up harder against his frame. There was no space between them, no way for him to hide his reactions, no way for him to ignore Dean’s this time. He tangled his fingers into the hair at Dean’s nape, clenching them as the urgency built. _Never felt like this._  


* * *

The kiss wasn't perfect. After all, it was Dean's first _real_ attempt, and one could only learn so much from pictures and television. But he liked to think what he lacked in experience he made up with in enthusiasm, and he was a fast learner. He tilted his head to the side a little so their noses wouldn't bump, their teeth clicking only once, and quickly got the hang of stroking his tongue along the angel's. Moaning softly into Sam's mouth at the feelings it produced inside of him.

Arousal rushing through him like a hot wave. Making his skin feel hypersensitive, pooling in his groin and in seconds he was so hard it was a little painful in the trapped confines of his jeans. The young man hardly cared about that discomfort however because Samuel was pulling him even closer, and Dean whimpered into the angel's mouth as he rubbed his erection against his firm stomach. However it was feeling Sam's answering hardness pressing against his ass that nearly made the young man spontaneously combust.

_Thought about you all day... Wanted you... so much..._ There were definitely certain advantages to the link they shared, like not having to break their kiss even to speak. He'd never felt like this either. Never knew it could be so good.

His fingers threaded through the angel's soft hair as he settled more comfortably in Sam's lap. Rolling his hips, rubbing his ass more firmly against Samuel's erection.

* * *

With each rock of Dean’s hips, Sam’s blood grew hotter… so hot, he could barely endure it. He started to arch to the rhythm Dean set, chasing his toned ass, needing the pressure like he needed to breathe. Awareness of Dean’s own arousal pressing into his stomach added fuel to the fire. _I feel how hard you are… it’s incredible._ So incredible he couldn’t even manage to guard his thoughts… his needs.

He drew in a long, ragged breath, inhaling the intoxicating mix of fresh sandalwood soap and a hint of metal tinged axel grease. Before he could share how much it enthralled him, Dean’s mouth was on his again. This time Samuel leaned forward, welding their mouths together as they kissed harder, his mind almost exploding with the tastes and sensations sweeping through him.

Needing. Wanting things he shouldn’t. Tempted beyond reason, his mind became a riot of images… standing and pressing Dean up against the wall. Kissing his wet, slippery chest in the tub. Pushing him down to his knees. Groaning, trying to close his mind to such sinful things, he dragged Dean closer, so hard he could feel the imprint of Dean’s muscled chest against his. If he concentrated on kissing… maybe he wouldn’t slip any further down the slope. _Kiss me again. Just like that._  


* * *

He felt like his insides were melting. Like he could just melt into a puddle right here in Samuel’s lap. Dean felt so hot. Everywhere their bodies touched was scorching. But instead of being burned by the heat, he wanted more of it. Wanted to mold himself to the angel and never be parted from him again. Even if the burning consumed him alive. He wanted to keep kissing Sam forever. Not even caring if he ever breathed again.

Of course this was not a realistic wish. The burning in his lungs forcing him away from the angel’s mouth, panting hotly against his lips. His own lips tingling and feeling a little sore, but it felt so damn good… Though not as good as the feeling of Samuel arching beneath him. The angel’s cock, like a hot iron brand, rubbing even harder against his ass.

_So good… so good… Samuel…_

The young man made a desperate sound between a moan and a whimper and crushed their mouths together again. Whimpering again into the kiss when he began to see the erotic images flashing before his mind’s eye. Answering each one with his own.

Wrapping his arms and legs around the angel tightly as Samuel pinned him against the wall, lifting him off his feet, rocking against him. Arching beneath the mouth sliding over his wet chest, his fingers tightening in Sam’s damp hair, guiding that mouth to one of his nipples. As he dropped to his knees his hands went to the angel’s waist, eagerly opening his jeans, sliding them lower so he could finally see Sam fully…

He wanted to see him now. God, he wanted to touch him…

Fitting his hands between their bodies was not an easy task considering he didn’t even want to pull away from the angel, but the desire to feel Sam’s bare skin beneath his hands convinced him. Working his way down the front of Samuel’s shirt, practically ripping open buttons in his haste and moaning again when he was finally able to run his palms down the front of Sam’s muscled chest. As much as he wanted to explore every inch his fingers didn’t stop till they reached the waistband of Sam’s jeans. Quickly undoing the angel’s belt.

_Want to touch you… So bad…_

Popping the button of Sam’s jeans Dean slid his hand down the front.

* * *

Dean’s answer to each of the images flashing in his head ratcheted ramped up Sam’s need until he was mindlessly kissing and grinding, accepting, wanting, demanding, taking...

_I’m supposed to give, not take..._

Just as he started to regain his sensibility, his shirt was tugged with such palpable desperation, like an echo it sent a strong surge straight to Sam’s cock. His head tilted back, hitting the chair.

And then Dean’s palms were leaving hot trails of fire up and down his chest, feeding his passion until Sam was shuddering and so out of control, he barely recognized himself. He started to tug Dean close again, wanting to be mouth to mouth, needing to taste him, needing to entwine his tongue with Dean’s again.

He registered some resistance, but his mind was slow. He was trying to work out the reason Dean’s mouth wasn’t sliding against his, when he felt his buckle get pushed aside. The instant Dean’s hand went down his pants and closed over his arousal, Sam almost came off the chair. “Dean...” he gave a strangled cry, his entire body clenching suddenly with the need for release. Things he wanted Dean to do to him, ways he wanted to be touched slipped through his mind and he was already reacting to the images of Dean stroking him, running his thumb over his crown... of kissing him and sucking and...

The image of himself spilling his seed brought him to his senses... but only barely. He gripped Dean’s wrist. Opening his eyes, he locked gazes with Dean and shook his head as he pulled Dean’s hand away from him. “I can’t. This isn’t allowed for me... against rules,” he panted, still writhing but trying to regain control over his body. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have teased over at Bobby’s... but I really can’t do this.”

Leaning forward, Sam brushed Dean’s lips. _I want to. I want to so bad... but Angels don’t._ Pulling back, he gently started to push Dean off his lap, biting his lip at the contact between Dean’s ass and his still rock hard erection. “Go and... go take care of yourself,” he whispered, showing Dean in his head that he should go to the bathroom and masturbate. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to take the feelings that would continue to haunt him over the link, but there was no reason for both of them to suffer. “It’ll be better.” He tried desperately not to look down at the bulge in the front of Dean’s jeans. Feeling it had been more than enough.

* * *

Dean felt himself go weak inside when his fingers wrapped around the burning hot length of Sam’s arousal. Feeling it throb in his hand, the way the angel bucked beneath him between his legs, crying out his name, the young man nearly came at that moment.

“Sam…” He panted breathlessly. Making a sound half way between a moan and a whimper when he started to see what Samuel wanted him to do, feeling the angel’s passion, fire fueling his own, and his hand moved without thought. Sliding down and up the silken length of hot steel, running his thumb around the head of the shaft just as he was seeing. Feeling the wetness dripping at the tip, his lips parted in a breathless moan. His eyes wide, lust blown pupils drinking in Sam’s every reaction like a drug. An addiction. Always needing more.

More of Samuel’s moans of pleasure. More of his kisses that left Dean breathless. Sam’s hot seed spilling between his fingers…

But then suddenly, Samuel was grabbing his wrist. Shaking his head as the angel shook his head and pulled his hand away from his cock and Dean was left reeling. Trapped between conflicting emotions of intense burning desire and confusion as well as no small amount of hurt at the sudden unexpected rejection.

“What…?” He barely managed to squeak out. The only thing coherent he could manage when his body was still trembling with unfulfilled lust. His hand still tingling where it had been wrapped around the angel’s erection, his fingertips wet with pre-come and all he wanted to do was put them into his mouth so he could taste. No, what he really wanted to do was touch Samuel again, stroking him to completion, feeling him pulse and throb in his hand, but the angel’s hand around his wrist prevented either. His trapped cock aching painfully in his jeans, only growing worse when he felt Samuel’s brush against his ass again when the angel tried to push him off gently, but Dean refused to move.

No. He didn’t understand and Samuel’s explanations didn’t satisfy him in the least.

“Why?” Dean finally managed to pant. Desperation coloring his voice from more than just the unfulfilled desire coursing through his veins. “What rules? I don’t understand… you said everyone does this… Why can you touch me but I can’t touch you?”

* * *

  
_Touch_. Samuel groaned out loud at Dean’s choice of words. As if Dean’s desperation beating against him, calling to him, drowning him … wasn’t enough. Breathing hard, he met Dean’s gaze and seeing his swollen lips and his eyes still glazed with desire, he almost gave in. Almost.

He blinked, trying to think straight when every cell in his body was still screaming for Dean’s touch. “It’s always been that way. Angels can give, not take.” Now it was impossible for him to help Dean find release because everything had changed and he would find pleasure even in that act. The weight of that stare never lifted from him, nor did the question in those fathomless green eyes.

“It’s a sin. For angels.” Sam drew another long breath, his voice lowering an octave, “you make me want to sin.”

God in heaven, how he wanted to go back to the point right before they’d stopped. How he wanted Dean’s hand on him again, their minds melding together, fueling each others’ passion. His chest rose and fell as those images started to torture him again. No. Gripping Dean’s hips, he got up suddenly, biting his lip as Dean slid down his body before his feet touched the ground.

“This is what happens when you choose strawberry.” A gust of wind blew over them, and Sam's expression hardened, wanting Dean to understand. “You can’t have it.” Turning around he walked away toward his room, holding his jeans up with one hand. _I can’t have it._  


* * *

Pain and disappointment certainly wasn’t something Dean was a stranger to. But maybe it felt so much worse now because of how good he’d been feeling just a few moments ago. So much pleasure. So much passion. So much warmth. So much… love…

All gone in an instant with a few words.

_It’s a sin. You make me want to sin._

Those words played over and over in his mind. He was deaf to almost everything else. Blinded by the tears crowding behind his eyes. Mute from the painful choking lump forming in his throat.

He had no idea how he even remained standing on his feet when Samuel got up suddenly. Pushing him off his lap forcefully this time. Dean shivered seeing the hard look on the angel’s face. In Samuel’s eyes…

It left him feeling cold. Numb. When Samuel walked away from him. Dean didn’t watch him go. He couldn’t even move. Those words still echoing in his head and finally a few tears slid down his cheeks.

_You make me want to sin._

Dean didn’t know how long he stood there before he quietly shut down the link between them. He doubted the angel even realized it. He didn’t want Samuel to. Then he turned and walked to and out the door he’d just come in… minutes ago… god it seemed so much longer. Leaving the apartment. Leaving the building. Picking a direction and just started walking, he didn’t even care which way he went. He hardly even looked up from the sidewalk as his feet took him farther and farther away from Samuel but not the pain he was feeling.

* * *

A long, cold shower had Sam shivering, but brought him back to his senses. Mostly. He found he still had to turn his mind away from Dean or else he found himself craving worse than he craved his nightly dose of a dessert. Another hour spent on his knees on the hard floor, palms raised and eyes closed as Latin prayers left his lips, finally centered him to the point where he could face Dean again. He hoped.

At least Dean had been kind enough to close his mind when he went about finding his release. If he hadn’t, Samuel didn’t know how he would have handled the overload. He knew he hadn’t done a good job of explaining the situation, but he couldn’t… not in the state he’d been. This was uncharted territory for him too, but Dean probably thought of him as all powerful and all knowing. Little did he know, the more knowledge you had, the smaller you felt… because you developed an awareness of exactly how much there was out there that you didn’t know, and would never know even if every hour of your life were spent learning.

Dressed conservatively in a crisp white shirt that was buttoned up, and black jeans, and hair still wet but slicked away from his face, Sam emerged again from his room. He’d been expecting to find Dean laying on the sofa and watching t.v., but no one was in the livingroom. The door to Dean’s room had been open, and he hadn’t been there. “Dean?”

Striding to the bathroom, he knocked, and pushed the door open. Turning, he headed for the kitchen, cold shards of fear settling in his stomach. “Dean? Dam…”

He took a deep breath and tried their mind link. _Dean? Dean where are you?_ Silence. A cold loneliness. _Dean, answer me. Let me in. Please, we can talk now. Dean… Dean._

Fear turned to panic, and grabbing his jacket, Sam was out the door and down the stairs. The first place he looked was the restaurant downstairs since Dean had gotten to know the waiters, and they’d eaten there a couple of times. Then he rushed uphill to a neighborhood coffee shop, and the ice cream store they sometimes went to. Nothing… not a sign of him.

Rubbing his clammy hands on his jean, Sam tried to think where else Dean could have gone. For the umpteenth time, he tried his cell and tried to reach him mentally. The sound of silence was slowly driving him mad. San Francisco was filled with people, shoulder to shoulder… Dean didn’t like crowds. The streets could be confusing, and he hadn’t walked around alone much. What if he was so distraught that he wasn’t watching for traffic? What if he saw one of his nightmares walking down the streets and reverted? What if.

There were no ‘what ifs,’ Sam simply had to find him. _Dean, please answer me, please… please,_ , he begged with every long step he took, determined to search every street surrounding his apartment.

Hours later, the crowds had thinned on the streets. It was near midnight, and still Sam’s desperate mental calls fell on deaf ears. Consumed with worry, he started to retrace his steps, almost crushing the phone in his hand as he pressed ‘re-dial.’

* * *

The night air was a little chilly and he didn’t have a coat. Though Dean hardly noticed the way he shivered. Didn’t even know if it was caused by the cold outside or the cold he felt inside. The hours he’d spent walking hadn’t dampened the heartache or crushing disappointment he felt which had driven him to leave Samuel’s apartment. Hadn’t brought an end to his confusion about why Samuel had said before it was ‘normal’ for him to feel such desires, but for the angel it was a sin.

You make me want to sin… What did that make him then? Evil?

When he’d first felt the brush of Samuel’s thoughts against the barrier he’d placed between their minds, Dean had pulled away further. Hiding from him. He just couldn’t ‘talk’ to the angel right now. Just the thought hurt too much. He was too afraid of what Samuel might say… after how the angel had looked at him… Dean had pulled away so far he could barely feel him at all anymore. He’d turned his cell phone off long ago.

He had no idea where he was now. He didn’t even know what time it was, though he knew it had to be late because the crowds of people on the sidewalks had thinned considerably, and all the shops had closed a long time ago. The young man was exhausted but he had no idea how to get ‘home’, he didn’t know if he could face Samuel again, even now. Even though he desperately wanted to, he was afraid…

But he was tired, and the later it got the more afraid he was being out on the streets all alone, so Dean finally entered one of the few places still open he came across. A bar.

The air was thick with smoke almost making him choke and the music was much too loud, not to mention the crush of people that unnerved inside. But between this and remaining alone out in the open outside, this seemed like the lesser evil at the moment. The young man sat down at an empty seat at the bar, glad to be off his feet, but he shook his head when the bartender asked him if he wanted anything.

He’d never had alcohol before and he didn’t have any money anyway. So he simply sat there nibbling on the peanuts that were apparently free and ignoring the people who tried to engage him in conversation. Deciding he definitely wasn’t going to stay for very long, but then again, where else could he go?

Lost in his thoughts Dean didn’t even notice the guy who came up behind him at first until he heard his voice almost directly in his ear. Making him jump slightly.

“Two scotches, on the rocks, for me and my friend here, Juli.” The man said, not unkindly, laying a hand on Dean’s shoulder. The young man immediately started to pull away, shaking his head in refusal, and the guy took his hand back, holding it up in apology.

“Don’t worry, kid. I don’t mean any harm, you just look like you could use a drink.” The older man said with a smile probably meant to put him at ease even though Dean still watched him warily. The bartender came back with the drinks and the man pushed one towards him.

“It’ll help. Trust me.” He said, taking a drink from his own glass. Dean looked at the liquor a moment, hesitating , before he picked it up and started to drink it. Coughing a little at the unexpected burn of the alcohol going down his throat, pooling like liquid fire in his stomach, finally warming him a little inside, and the man chucked a little warmly, patting him on his back a little.

“That a boy.” The other man said, ordering them another round.

The guy, Adam he said his name was, sat down beside him and started talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Not seeming to mind that he wasn’t very talkative back, buying him another drink once he finished his previous one. Even though Dean was tipsy after only two drinks, he accepted the third and fourth as well, and the man was right, it did help. Maybe not taking away the pain, but dulling it.

When the man started touching him on his arm, or leg, Dean didn’t balk as he’d done before. He was feeling too relaxed by then. His thoughts fuzzy. When the guy asked him if he wanted to leave, Dean simply shrugged and allowed the man to pull him off his barstool. Letting him hold him around his waist when he almost slid to the floor and led him outside.

The cool air outside sobering him a little, but only a little, and he tried to pull away and walk on his own now but he found he couldn’t. Dean wasn’t even sure where he was when he was pushed up against a wall and he felt a mouth covering his own. A tongue forcing itself inside before he could protest. Panic beginning to make his heart beat faster when he felt demanding hands start to slide beneath his t-shirt. He wanted to push the man away, spit out the tongue exploring every inch of his mouth, but he felt like he was paralyzed, unable to do either.

_No…_   


* * *

After all the silence, the single word was a loud bloodcurdling shout in Samuel’s mind. Refusing to panic, he sought the mental link, demanding answers. _Where are you? I’ll come for you, tell me where you are… Dean… where? What is happening._

He started to walk faster, praying harder, trying desperately to tune into the weak feedback he was getting. At first it was just confusion. Then fear. Not the sharp sort, but a dull lethargic fear that Sam didn’t understand. _Dean, please, I’m coming for you. Just tell me… tell me where… where?_

Then he was running, his feet hitting the pavement and the sound echoing off the surrounding building. He stopped trying to talk to Dean, because there were no answers, just stuttered thoughts that made no sense. If Dean could see the images in his mind, and vice versa, maybe there was a way he could see what Dean saw.

He laser focused his mind on one thing alone… Dean’s thoughts, Dean’s feeling, his senses… Suddenly he felt hard hands exploring his body, a tongue too deep in his throat and tasting of peanutbutter, a hard wall behind him… the feeling of being trapped. Where…where… forcing himself to close off one sense after another, until he could no longer feel or hear or smell or touch, he started to see the face in front of him.

_Dean, look up… look for a street sign… anything… look around you. Do it. Do it for me._

It was quick… like Dean’s face had been jerked back, but it was enough. Sam caught a glimpse of the skyline and knowing the city as well as he did, he pinpointed Dean’s location. He never broke his stride as his wings opened up and he took to the air, now invisible to most.

_I’m here._ An instant later, he dropped to the ground, his eyes as black as cold coal. A gust of wind hit Adam right before Sam put his hands on his shoulder. White hot light glowed from Sam’s hand, and Adam fell to his knees, then to the ground.

Sam caught Dean in his embrace and looked into his eyes, immediately noticing his dilated pupils. _You’re safe now._ He closed his arms tight around Dean, going visible only for a moment as someone walked out. “Call the police, this man is drugging people with Rohypnol.” When the man shook his head like he didn’t want to be involved, Sam touched his arm. The guy went back inside.

Disappearing again and holding Dean tight, Sam shot straight up into the sky. _Dean, you’re with me. You’re safe,_ he kept reassuring both with his mind touches, and by washing waves of warmth and light over Dean.

Once they reached his building, he easily carried Dean up the stairs and into his apartment, setting him down on the sofa and sitting next to him. “Look at me, can you talk?” His nostrils flared as he watched Dean struggle. This was all his fault. He should have stayed and explained. He should have been sure Dean understood before he left like he had and got himself in trouble. He ran his hand over Dean’s face. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Please say something.”

* * *

The feeling of being unable to move, unable to even think, while rough callused hands explored his flesh against his will was not a new sensation. However he had believed, foolishly it seemed, that it would never happen to him again.

It was like being caught between being asleep and awake. His every reaction slowed. His every sense dulled. His every thought a struggle. It was almost easier to just close his eyes and pretend it was only a bad dream. Any moment now he’d wake up and Samuel would be there. The angel’s warm arms around him, holding him, keeping him safe. Protecting him…

Not the cold unfeeling hands sliding over his chest underneath his shirt. Pinching his nipples hard, making him wince. Callous rough hands sliding down the back of his jeans, clutching at his ass while an insistent tongue continued to ravage his mouth as he whimpered pathetically.

No… no it wasn’t happening. Any moment now he’d wake up. Samuel would be there. Samuel would hold him. Touch him gently. Kiss him softly. Samuel wouldn’t let the nightmares have him. Samuel…

Dean could hear him. He could feel him. He tried to speak back, but he couldn’t find his inner voice any easier than he could shout for help with his real one. He just couldn’t. No matter how hard he struggled. Pushing weakly at the man holding him against the wall. No… no… He had to wake up. He had to…

Samuel…

Somehow he forced his eyes open. He bit down hard on the man’s lips violating him and finally the man pulled away from his mouth. Dean’s vision clearing only for a second before it exploded in stars. His head snapping back, hitting the wall behind him when he was backhanded. His vision swimming. His eyes rolling closed once more when he felt the man’s mouth on his neck next. Sucking a mark into his skin while hands worked to get his jeans open.

Then suddenly the weight in front of him, pinning to him was gone and Dean began to slide bonelessly down the wall. Only to be caught a second later. Held close against a warm broad chest. Cradled protectively in gentle arms and Dean relaxed almost instantly when he took in the clean warm scent he knew so well.

Samuel… his angel…

Comfort and warmth washed over him in waves. Wrapped around him like a blanket and Dean practically melted into the angel’s arms. Not struggling anymore. Completely trusting. Knowing he was safe.

It wasn’t until the angel set him down that Dean struggled to open his eyes again. Realizing they were home, safe, and the young man found he just wanted to close his eyes again. To go to sleep curled up warm and safe in Sam’s arms. Anything else simply seemed too much of an effort right now. But the angel was looking at him with such worry he knew he had to answer somehow. Pressing his cheek into the warm hand that caressed his face, Dean licked his lips.

“I had… a… bad dream…” He finally managed to slur. Reaching out weakly for the angel. _But then you came…_  


* * *

"Yes, a very bad dream," he whispered, taking Dean in his arms once again and holding him for a while. The only way Samuel held onto his sanity was by reminding himself it could have gone worse. He rocked slowly back and forth, occasionally looking down into Dean's face and brushing his mind until all of the panic and anxiety was completely gone.

When he started to detangle himself from Dean, despite his lethargy, Dean suddenly appeared more than able to cling to him. "I'm just getting you something to drink, I'll be right back." It took a bit more convincing, but Dean eventually let him go. Sam felt his eyes on him as he went to the kitchen.

He got the coffee started, then stood in the doorway, in Dean's line of sight and explained again he'd be back. Half asleep, but fighting to stay awake, he looked just like a child. No, not a child. Those bedroom eyes, those sensuous lips... trouble. Especially in this stage of his life, when he thought he knew a lot, but was in fact naïve in many ways. How was Sam to teach him to mix with people and socialize, and yet to know to avoid the predators, and do so without scaring him? This was Rick all over again, and Samuel blamed himself for his lack of vigilence.

Turning his head when the coffee finished brewing, he stepped into the kitchen and returned with a large mug of coffee, which he'd cooled down with water. Even before he got to the couch, Dean was reaching for him.

He sat down and had Dean take a few sips of the coffee, before letting him slip back into his embrace. It was clear Dean was having difficulty speaking, so Sam did all the talking. Turning the television on, he promised they'd go to bed once Dean finished the coffee. Then he turned the news on and gave running commentary, brushing Dean's hair, stroking his back, always making sure that one way or the other, he was always aware he wasn't alone.

About a half hour later, reassured that Dean wasn't overdosing, wouldn't slip into a coma and didn't need any more medical attention than the angel had given him through touches, he got up with the boy still in his arms. "You've put on a little weight," he laughed, comparing how light and far more bony Dean had been the day he'd gotten him out of the asylum.

Depositing him on his bed, Sam found himself being tugged and pulled. Laughing he shook his head. "I think I'm gonna have to call you 'octopus.' Dodging those arms, he started to undress Dean. He'd planned to go and get the boy's own pajamas, but now instead retrieved his own from the drawer. After a bit of tugging and pulling, and rolling up of the pants, he had him dressed and under the covers. "I'll be right there," he reassured.

Quickly changing, he got in the bed and wasn't surprised when Dean immediately rolled close and settled on his chest, burying his face under his neck. _Sleep. You're safe. No more dream, I promise._  



	5. Chapter 5

Samuel came out of deep sleep to the sound of a battle call blaring in his head. Glancing at the green glow on the alarm clock telling him it was 4:30 a.m., he gave his mental response. He would be ready.  


  
With as little sound and motion as he could, he freed himself from Dean, and got out of the bed, immediately missing the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. Resisting the urge to brush his mind, he quickly headed out of the room to take a shower.

When he returned, he had a cup of coffee in hand. Seeing Dean was still fast asleep, he set it down and started to dress. It was early, and he didn't want to wake Dean up, but he would have to before he left... he didn't want him panicking or feeling abandoned.

Opening his closet, he pressed the back panel, and opened up a hidden closet behind it. Pulling out his mounted sword, and his armor, he laid them on the bottom of the bed. The silver sword gleamed with a wicked blue edge.

With the efficiency of a warrior angel who'd prepared for battle thousands of times, he put on his leather breast plate and short, white robes. The breast plate was so finely made, it molded to his body like a second skin, and from a distance, it might not be visible at all.

He had his sandals and ankle guards on, and then he put on one forearm guard brace, using his teeth to hold onto the strap, tightening it, then tying it off. As he reached for the second brace, he felt Dean stir and watch him. "Don't touch the sword," he quickly said. He _knew_ Dean too well.

* * *

Dean wasn’t sure if it was the missing warmth in the bed beside him or the soft sounds of movement in the room that had finally woke him. All he knew was that he really didn’t want to be awake right now. It was _way_ too fucking early. Somehow he knew that even without opening his eyes. Though he supposed his reluctance could also have something to do with the awful splitting headache he had.

The young man groaned softly as he opened his eyes. Wincing even though there was no light on in the room, just a bit coming in from the hallway, but it still hurt his eyes. He felt awful. His throat feeling dry and swollen. His head feeling like it was going to split open. His stomach twisting, and every muscle in his body aching… Yeah, he felt like crap.

And he didn’t even remember why.

He remembered coming home from Bobby’s. He remembered climbing into Sam’s lap and… and he remembered what the angel had said to him as he pushed him away, and leaving the apartment… but that was it. He didn’t remember coming home. He didn’t remember going to bed… Samuel’s bed… he could only hope that meant that the angel wasn’t still mad at him…

Dean finally managed to focus on the angel and had to blink a few times, wondering if maybe he were still asleep after all, because Samuel looked like… the robes, the leather armor… it was, weird, and at the same time Samuel looked absolutely amazing. Like some kind of ancient warrior, strong and… beautiful… Dean’s eyes flickered down to the bed where the sword laid and then back to Samuel as he pushed himself up in the bed. Neither his head nor his stomach enjoying the change in position very much but he wasn’t concerned about that right now.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, despite the angel’s words reaching out slowly to the blade lying on the bed.

* * *

Prepared, because he really did know Dean too well, Sam grasped his wrist before he touched the sword. “You’ll burn your palm.” He met Dean’s gaze and didn’t know whether to be amused or angry. “Most people obey me,” he mused.

Releasing him, he finished tying on his forearm brace, then looked back at Dean. His eyes were bloodshot, but his pupils were no longer dilated. “Here, this might help you feel better,” he said, passing Dean his coffee and sitting on the side of the bed.

“There’s been a great increase of demonic activity near Atlanta. It looks like there is an attempt to open a Hell Gate. I’m going to go seal it, with others,” he said, nodding. “I’ll be gone for... I should be back by night. You might want to go to Bobby’s,” he suggested. “But do me a favor, if you go out, take your cell phone. Please.”

* * *

Dean looked up into the angel’s eyes when Sam’s hand curled around his wrist. Burn? But the blade was lying on the bed, and it didn’t look hot… He didn’t understand how that was possible, but he didn’t try to touch the sword again when Samuel finally released him. Only giving a slight shrug in response to Sam’s comment about most people obeying him.

Dean had been told what to do his whole life, not able to make a single decision for himself, even when he was allowed to go to the bathroom practically scheduled. So maybe he was a little tired of being told what he could and couldn’t do all the time. Tired of rules. Everyone telling him what he could and couldn’t have…

Though he did take the offered mug of coffee that Samuel passed to him. Sipping it slowly so it wouldn’t aggravate his stomach any more than it already was. However when the angel finally answered his question Dean almost forgot about the drink completely. Staring at Sam with suddenly wide eyes. Forgetting for the moment how badly he felt.

Demonic activity… Hell Gate…

Dean looked down at the sword again and back to Samuel fearfully as the angel went on to explain he’d be gone all day. Suggesting he go to Bobby’s… obviously trying to distract him so he wouldn’t worry, but not working in the least. The young man clearly remembering the fight he’d witnessed between the angel and the demon when they’d left the asylum. Remembering how afraid he’d been for the angel…

What if something happened to Samuel? What if he didn’t come back? He didn’t want Samuel to go alone. Even if there were ‘others’ going with him, Dean didn’t want to stay here alone, not knowing what was happening…

“Can’t I go with you? I won’t get in the way. I can help.” Dean looked up at the angel hopefully. Wasn’t he supposed to be doing ‘good’ things anyway? So he wouldn’t go to hell?

* * *

Somehow Samuel had known the question was coming, but he shook his head. “No. This isn’t like what you saw at the asylum. This is bigger... but... nothing I haven’t done many times,” he said, putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

He tried not to be impressed, not to marvel at the fact that Dean was prepared to face the very creatures who’d put him in that asylum, who gave him nightmares and made him think he was hallucinating about horrors that couldn’t exist. “Don’t look so serious. I’m going to be back, and I’ll be fine. Just promise me you...” this time he stabbed him in the chest with a long finger, “won’t get yourself into any trouble while I’m gone.”

Though he was smiling, Sam was still smarting from the terrors of last night. He kept reminding himself it had turned out alright, but he didn’t know if he could take a repeat performance. “Promise me Dean, I...”

The time on the clock flipped from 5:28 to 5:29. “They’re here.” Leaning in, he kissed Dean’s cheek and was pulling away, when he leaned in again, this time kissing him on the corner of his mouth, lingering slightly only because it was the best compromise between what he wanted... and what he should do.

In a fluid motion, he got off the bed and grabbed the hilt of the sword. He didn’t bother telling Dean to go back to sleep because he knew there was no way he would sleep, not when he was alone. Looking back at him one more time, he strode out of the room, his wings now unfurling behind him.

Moments later, he was downstairs in the middle of the street, greeting five other warrior angels. “Michael.” Grinning he gave the man a hug, and kissed another lightly on the lips. When he got to Gabriel, he was pulled into that angel’s tight embrace, and when their closed mouths met for a spell too long, Samuel for the first time understood. And he remembered the times they’d slept next to each other and Gabriel had held him all night. Glancing at the window of his apartment, he understood only too well.

Pulling away, he finished greeting the others, and then all of them took a few long strides and took to the skies in unison, swords gleaming in the moonlight, faces hard and determined... ready to face the dark enemy once more.

* * *

Dean’s face fell when Samuel refused to let him come with him. It wasn’t that Dean really _wanted_ to see demons again, like the hospital director or the things he’d seen in hell. In fact, the idea alone scared the hell out of him. But the idea of sitting here alone all day not knowing what was going on was even worse. He just… he wanted to be there. To help Samuel…

What could you possibly do to help an angel fight against demons? A voice inside him whispered evilly and the worst part of it was he knew it was right. He would be absolutely useless, and worse he’d probably only be a hindrance to Samuel.

The angel’s reassurances that he’d done ‘this’ many times before so he shouldn’t worry didn’t do much to put the young man at ease, but when Samuel asked him to promise to stay out of trouble while he was gone, Dean nodded. The last thing he wanted, after all, was for the angel to be distracted worrying about him or something.

He tried not to look so worried when Sam said ‘they’ were here. The soft lingering kiss the angel gave him making his heart ache and just hold onto Sam and never let him go. Instead all he could do was watch as Samuel picked up his sword and left the bedroom. So many things he wanted to say, but unable to voice any of them.

Dean remained in the bed for all of thirty seconds after hearing the front door close before he got up and went to the dark living room. Walking over to the large windows and looking down at the street. Seeing Samuel… and the other angels together, all of them dressed as Sam in armor and carrying weapons that seemed to shine with their own light was a truly awe inspiring sight.

But watching Samuel greet the other angels, Dean was struck for perhaps the first time how foolish he really was. How different they were from him, and as he watched Samuel give one of the angel’s a lingering kiss, the young man’s hand curled into a fist at his side in jealousy.

His other hand rose to rest against the cool glass as he watched the angels unfurl their wings and take to the sky. Quickly becoming lost to his human eyes in the darkness, so Dean simply closed his eyes then. Reaching for Samuel with his thoughts as he had countless times before, though never over such long distances. Feeling himself being ‘stretched’ and his already pounding headache growing worse with the effort, but he could still feel Samuel. Like the angel was still there beside him even as more and more miles stretched between them.

Dean sat down in the chair by the window. His eyes still closed, leaning his head back.

_Please be careful_. He sent along their link along with all the warmth and love he could muster before pulling back just a little. Just under the surface so that he was ‘aware’ of what was going on but he wouldn’t be distracting to Samuel. He would be there, even if he couldn’t be.

* * *

Traveling at tremendous speeds, Sam was several states away when he felt Dean in the back of his mind. He gave a mental smile, suddenly realizing how attached he'd grown to all those mind touches and the feeling of almost never being truly alone. How attached he he'd grown to Dean, when all this time he'd thought it was his ward who was overly attached to him.

Almost as if it was second nature, he told Dean where he was and what he was seeing. Going quiet when one of the others communicated inside his head. But that was so different... just disembodied voices. With Dean, he could not only sense his words, but his actual thoughts and feeling. It was like being joined in a sense he didn't think anyone could understand.

_Stop worrying. Make yourself breakfast and don't burn your fingers._ Concentrating on making Dean feel his arms go around him, he added, _I know you get clumsy at every opportunity or excuse to suck your thumb._ Laughing, because he didn't think Dean knew he'd caught on, he veered toward the direction the sun was rising.

* * *

With his eyes still closed, Dean smiled a little when he felt the touch of the angel’s mind in return.

It felt a little different. Almost like Sam’s words were ‘echoing’ more inside his head, far away and close at the same time. Perhaps it was because they were so far away physically from each other, but the link still remained strong. Dean could almost forget he was sitting here in the chair in the living room. He could almost feel the wind against his face. See the sun rising over the horizon even as it remained dark where he was.

Dean made a face when Sam told him to stop worrying and make himself breakfast. His stomach still wasn’t feeling too good, so eating anything didn’t sound too appetizing right now.

He smiled wider when he ‘felt’ the angel’s arms around him, however when Samuel teased him about sucking his thumb, the young man mentally gave Samuel the finger. His middle one, to be exact. Mentally snuggling closer to Samuel. Letting their thoughts tangle tighter together like a physical embrace.

Dean couldn’t hide the relief he felt then. After what had happened yesterday… he’d been afraid that Samuel wouldn’t even let him close anymore. This way or any other. Perhaps the worst part was that he couldn’t really bring himself to feel sorry for it. Well, he was sorry for upsetting Samuel, but not for feeling the way he did about the angel. Not for the way they’d touched, or kissed, or how he wanted more…

_You can’t have it…_

It didn’t stop Dean from wanting it. Wanting him…

_You make me want to sin…_

Dean sighed softly.

_Samuel…_ The young man started, but then stopped. Now wasn’t the time to talk about that. Maybe once the angel came back… but not now. _I love you._ He still sent anyway. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling any more than he could stop his heart beating.

Dean smiled a little to himself. God, he was such a girl…

* * *

A flush of heat washed over Sam and then started to recede, leaving behind a sharp ache in the angel’s heart...one that could never be comforted. He could barely breathe, barely think.

SAMUEL!

Gabriel’s voice boomed into Sam’s mind and he quickly readjusted his flight path, nodding at the other angel.

_Close your mind link. We’re going into battle, I don’t want you to see this._ It wasn’t a request, and Sam expected obedience.

From a distance, he could see the earth boil and simmer, steam with the darkest things out of hell. The gateway was far wider than Sam had expected, and the closer they got, the greater the acceleration of demons tumbling and crawling out, teeth nashing, talons searching for prey, eyes filled with hatred.

The angels mentally formulated their attack plans and split off from each other, aiming their swords to the ground and unleashing white bolts of lighting from their tips as they flew into battle. The closer he got, the louder Sam chanted in Latin... ancient words that would send the minions of Satan back where they belonged. The other angels chanted in even more ancient tongues.

Samuel landed on the ground, sulfuric acid in the air singing his lungs. Immediately, he was surrounded by hordes and single mindedly moved to destroy them. Screams rose from the battle grounds, both from the throats of the demons and of the Angels. Angel’s bled, healed, and bled again... fighting with the righteous knowledge that evil had to be kept in the confines of hell, and that this was today’s battle ground.

Sweat soaked Sam’s back and dripped from his forehead as he brought his heavy sword down again and again, striking with his blade and with lighting fueled by the heavens. Hours passed, his muscles ached, his arm moved slightly slower, and his body burned with cuts and wounds, but his spirit and determination never flagged.

Then he saw the army of possessed humans entering the battle field and faltered.

SAMUEL KILL THEM. NO MERCY. Michael’s voice boomed in Sam’s head.

He answered, LET ME EXORCISE THEM.

NO.

Sam sadly turned toward the all too human army, clad in jeans and pajamas and in uniforms he recognized, running toward him. Some armed, some just wild with hatred... all of them fodder. _God forgive me. God have mercy on their souls._ He stood his ground and waited for them.

* * *

Dean tensed, feeling his own heart begin to beat faster with adrenaline when Sam’s did. He heard the angel’s order to close his mind, but he didn’t. He knew he was risking Samuel’s anger when the angel returned, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to leave Samuel alone. He wasn’t afraid…

He almost… almost… regretted his decision when he saw the first of the demons. Just as he remembered from his nightmares of hell. However he kept his anxiety, the fear he felt for Samuel, to himself, not wanting to distract the angel.

The young man couldn’t stop the cry of pain that escaped his lips however, looking down at his arm that was suddenly bleeding. Realizing he was bleeding because Samuel was bleeding. But he still refused to pull his mind back.

No matter what he saw, he didn’t look away. No matter what he felt. He refused to turn away just as he’d refused when Samuel had ordered him in the asylum. He saw everything Sam saw. Felt everything Sam felt. When he saw the humans coming towards Samuel, possessed by demons, he felt the angel’s indecision and pain…

But then he saw something else. Something… rising up around the battlefield… Surrounding. Dean had no idea what it was, but he knew it was something evil… the power building… and Samuel couldn’t see it…

_Samuel! You have to move! You have to move now! There’s something surrounding you all! You have to move!_   


* * *

To Sam’s consternation, the momentary loss of focus got him shot in the side. A strangled cry broke from him at the same time he back flipped, dodging a second bullet. Even as he returned and took the arm off the person holding the gun, his eyes shifted ... seeking what it was Dean saw.

Nothing. And yet... he tasted something foul, something different. He felt the air shifting for no reason. SOMETHING IS SURROUNDING US.

He spoke to the other angels on blind faith. If he was wrong, they might lose any advantage they seemed to have over the field. But if he was right... if Dean was right... he might be averting a defeat.

Swinging his sword, he cut a path away from the humans and then finally saw something gleaming in the fabric of the world, closing around them like Dean had said. Before he reported what he saw, Gabriel and Raphael circled overhead, aiming their powers and working to destroy the force that had been gaining power, hardening into a net that would have tied all of them down in place.

Hours later, the battle field was clear of opposition. Five angels swept toward each other through the skies with swords held out, stopping when the tips of their sword touched and they hovered in a circle above the gate. As they chanted, the air crackled with electricity. Their eyes went black in the same instance as they collectively turned their swords to the ground and sent a thick bolt of searing heat deep into the ground.

The land and skies thundered and shook, and yet they kept concentrating their power, moving the point of their sword, welding the gate ... sealing it.

They dropped tiredly down to the ground, patting each other on the back. It had been a hard fought battle.

“Drinks are on me,” Gabriel offered, wiping his brow. “You’re all welcome to stay with me.”

Several of them agreed, but Sam shook his head no. “I have to get back. Next time,” he looked down at the bullet being pushed out of his body, and knew he really had to talk with Dean.

“Why?” Approaching him, Gabriel searched his face. “Your ward can last a night without you.”

Sam cracked a smile. “I don’t know if the world can take it. No, I have to go.”

“Does this have to do with the strange connection you have? I read your report? I wanted to talk to you about it, learn more.”

“Believe me, I haven’t found anything out about it, other than it’s there.”

“It must be annoying.”

Sam didn’t answer.

“Let him go, Gabe. You know he wants to go brood over the...” Michael jerked his chin toward the dead possessed. “It’s how he is.”

YOUR EXTREME LOVE OF HUMANS IS UNNATURAL

Sam met Gabriel’s gaze but didn’t answer his mental comment. It was true. “Have a drink for me too.” He took to the skies and headed home.

*

It was almost evening when he pushed the door of his apartment open. His robes and skin were splattered with blood... his... others’ and his face was as weary as his body. But two steps into the room and he saw Dean sitting by the window, exactly where Sam had been waiting for him the day before. Only Dean was bloody... and injured ... a mirror image of himself.

A rare oath broke from Samuel as he dropped the sword onto the coffee table and strode toward Dean. “Don’t you ever listen? I told you to close the link. At least once you started bleeding why didn’t you have the sense to?” Sam wasn’t quick to anger, but right now fear for Dean and evidence that he couldn’t control the boy’s tendency to be drawn to danger, had him seeing red. “How am I supposed to protect you, Dean? How when you won’t listen to me?” he demanded, his eyes raking the boy, trying to gauge his injuries. _It hurts me to see you in pain. Is that what you want?_  


* * *

Dean had felt the shot in Samuel’s side, crying out in pain the exact same time as the angel, and feeling his own blood dripping through his fingers when he pressed his hands to his stomach. But moments later he knew it was worth it, because Samuel finally saw what he had seen. His warning had prevented Samuel from becoming trapped and he sagged back in the chair in relief.

The wound in his side was just a scratch. A deep scratch. But just a scratch. He would be fine, and even if he wouldn’t… he didn’t care as long as Samuel was.

The battle went on for hours, and Dean was there for every second of it. Just in case… Samuel might need him again… When it was finally over the young man was so far beyond exhausted it was amazing he was able to remain awake at all. Worry for Samuel and adrenaline from the battle probably the only things keeping him awake. His eyes closed now not because he was concentrating, but because he just couldn’t keep them open.

Though he finally began to relax when he knew that Samuel was coming home. He must have dozed off at some point waiting for the angel, because it was Sam’s loud curse that startled him awake.

Maybe he should have been a little afraid. Samuel standing over him like that, obviously furious. Yelling at him. His wings still unfurled, still in his armor, fresh from battle, covered in his own blood and the blood of others. Maybe he should have been at least nervous, but he wasn’t. He knew Samuel was only angry because he was worried. Because he cared… unlike the other angels… and Dean simply smiled up at him tiredly.

“You’re welcome.” He said simply, meaning how he’d warned Samuel before. He had helped the angel, maybe kept Samuel from being hurt or killed, he wasn’t going to be sorry for that. However the words spoken in his mind, he wasn’t even sure if Samuel meant him to hear, made the smile slip off his face as he struggled to stand up. Ignoring his injuries as he stood in front of Samuel. Wrapping his arms tightly around the angel’s neck, pressing himself close to him, uncaring of all the dirt, blood, and gore covering him.

“No, that’s not what I want.” Dean whispered before crushing his mouth to Samuel’s.

* * *

Just one word emblazoned itself in the angel’s mind. Want. Then they were mouth to mouth, and Sam’s arms closed around Dean’s waist, tightening possessively around his hard, masculine frame and dragging him closer. He put all of his anger and worry into the kiss, battling Dean’s tongue, vying for control... it was harsh and yet beautiful and out of control.

As if still on the battlefield, adrenalin coursed through Sam’s veins, making him focus on one thing alone... his merciless hunger for the disobedient rebellious man in his arms. His hands roamed up and down Dean’s body, needing, wanting, molding until there was literally no way for them to get closer. He lifted Dean, groaning as he brought him down against his arousal, kissing and tasting him again, the heat between them searing away all coherent thought.

Before he knew it, it had started again... those erotic fantasies that filtered through his mind with each hungry kiss, each panting breath, each time Dean pulled and tugged on him... demanded more. It pushed him to the very edge... so close to falling, he found he’d started to pull Dean’s shirt up.

Dropping Dean down, he stepped back, putting his hands out to separate them. “Oh God.” His eyes were glued on Dean’s mouth, every part of him aching with need, with desire. He blew out a few deep breaths. “I should probably be making some joke about a good home coming,” he rasped.

But this was no joke, and now they both knew it.

* * *

Sam's mouth on his was hotter than fire. His fingers burning where they touched the young man's skin. Hands possessive and demanding, clutching at him. Drawing him closer. Dean's fingers dug into the angel's shoulders, holding onto Sam just as fiercely. Whimpering into the angel's mouth. Kissing him with just as much burning, desperate, need. Both of them fighting to get closer, even when they both knew they shouldn't. But right now Dean couldn't bring himself to care.

Fuck the god damn rules. Fuck sin. He wanted Samuel. Needed him. More than he needed air to breathe.

When Samuel lifted him up, Dean wrapped his legs around the angel as well. Clinging to Samuel every way he could. Pressing his thickening arousal hard against the angel's body. Feeling Sam's answering hardness making him feel almost dizzy, and he didn't know if it was from desire or blood loss, but he didn't care.

_Yes… yes, Samuel… please…_

But then suddenly Samuel was setting him down and Dean had no idea how he managed to stay on his feet when his legs felt suddenly so weak. When his entire body was shaking with need, every inch of his flesh aching for Samuel's touch.

Dean licked his lips, groaning softly tasting Samuel on them, and making it impossible for him to regain control over his pounding heart and rapid breaths. He wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them again, but Samuel's hands stopped him. The young man had a feeling if he pushed just a little more, then those hands wouldn't be stopping him for very long. That thought frightened him as much as it excited him.

The young man licked his lips again and swallowed hard.

"I'm not sorry…" He said softly. Meaning for what they had done yesterday. For disobeying Samuel and not shutting their link when the angel ordered him to during the battle. For kissing him now. For wanting him… loving him… He wasn't sorry, and if that made him evil, if it sent him back to hell… then so be it.

* * *

Sam stared at him for a long moment, still fighting the demands of his body. He nodded at last. “I know. But you should be. We both should.”

Turning on his heels... before he didn’t... before he was tempted beyond reason... he walked past the coffee table, “don’t touch it. It _will_ burn you,” he said, making his way into the bathroom.

He needed a bath, but first he’d have a shower, a cold one. Not only to wash away the grime, but... he let out another breath. Turning on the water for the bathtub, he quickly got out of his clothes, struggling a bit with his leather hand braces.

Then he was under the shower, twisting the handle back to warm up the water because despite the needs still coursing through him, his muscles ached. As the water washed over him, he started to relax and lathered the soap over his skin. It was good to be free of dried blood and most of his wounds had closed during the trip back so there wasn’t much stinging.

Reaching for the bottle, he poured some shampoo into his hand and eyes closed, he started to vigorously massages it into his hair.

* * *

Dean watched the angel go, feeling a pang in his heart when Samuel walked away from him. Again. But at least he’d been somewhat expecting it this time. Though it didn’t really make the rejection hurt any less.

The young man sighed softly.

Maybe he should be sorry. But he wasn’t.

_We both should._

A small smile curved his lips when he realized that Samuel wasn’t sorry either.

Dean stood there for another few heartbeats. Listening to the sound of the shower before he made a decision. Stripping off his own bloody clothes as he went, wincing a little as the dried blood stuck to his healing wounds, he opened the bathroom door quietly.

Then just froze standing in the doorway for a moment as he looked at Samuel through the glass shower door. Forgetting how to breathe the angel looked so beautiful. Even with the cuts and blood slowly being washed away by the warm water he was still absolutely breathtaking.

Before he could lose his nerve Dean closed the bathroom door behind him quietly, walking over to the shower and opening the glass door he stepped in beside the angel without preamble. Smiling up at the angel and standing in the way of the door just in case Samuel decided to try to bolt.

“Want me to wash your back?” He asked ‘innocently’.

* * *

Sam all but hit head on the tile as he stepped away, taking a deep breath and getting a lungful of humid air. “Dean! What are you...” he wiped the shampoo off his eyes and stared. Holy...

Swallowing hard, he moved back a little more. The shower was built for two and even had two sprays but it felt tiny and closed in at the moment. Sam tried not to notice the way Dean’s wet skin gleamed, or the heat in his eyes.

His mouth worked, but no sound came out. He tried again. “You don’t barge into a bathroom, and... and you don’t walk into a shower when someone’s in it.” Oh Dean knew exactly what he was doing, even to the point of barring the door. “I should take you on my knees and spank you.” He _definitely_ wasn’t a child, but Sam said the first thing that came to his admittedly muddled mind.

* * *

Dean tried to keep the amusement off his face at Samuel’s reaction. Watching the angel stutter and flail about for a moment, and trying not to laugh. He tried hard, he really did. But it was difficult, and in the end he just disguised it as a cough.

However his amusement died away quickly when the angel finally looked at him, really looked, and the young man felt his skin warm underneath Samuel’s regard. Dean let his own eyes travel down the length of the angel’s body appreciatively before they rose to meet Sam’s once again with obvious heat in them. This was the first time they had both been naked together in the same space. It was also the first time he had seen Sam… all of him…

God, he was even more perfect than he had imagined…

A mischievous smile broke out on the young man’s face when Samuel tried to scold him. Only growing wider when the angel went on to ‘threaten’ him with a spanking.

“Promises, promises.” Dean teased the flustered angel as he stepped closer to him. Taking up some of the space underneath the showerhead that Samuel was using. Sighing pleasantly at the feeling of the warm spray of water washing over his skin.

“I’m just as dirty as you are. I didn’t want to wait.” Dean gave as an explanation, even though they both knew it was a lie. That wasn’t the reason why he’d done this, but as long as he had an ‘innocent’ explanation then Samuel couldn’t just kick him out.

Dean picked up the bar of soap and began to lather up his hands.

“Turn around. You still have blood on your back.”

* * *

The angel’s eyes widened at the blasé way Dean claimed to take to the idea, though he didn’t know whether it was the ‘being taken over his knee’ or the spanking part that was making his eyes glow. Just where had Dean learned these things in the short time he’d been out of the asylum.

He moved further back, stepping under the second showerhead entirely as Dean managed to take his place. When he offered to wash his back, Sam looked suspiciously at him. “I washed...” unsure, he turned, and placed his hand on the tile, tensing when he felt Dean’s hand on him.

It might be his imagination on overload, but he just knew Dean was getting an eyeful, and maybe he was getting ideas. Wrong, bad, very wrong ideas. His suspicions were confirmed when Dean’s hand slipped down over his ass.

Heart slamming into his chest, Sam turned and pushed past Dean, opening the door so fast his ward had no chance to protest. A few long strides got him to the bathtub which was filled to capacity. He quickly got inside, and sat down, turning the jets on in a fluid motion.

Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes tight... even though the image of Dean naked and scrubbing those lean legs and arms, those hands moving over his abs... the same slow way they’d moved over Sam,,, were burned into his eyelids.

Eventually, he heard the water stop and the shower door open. He bit his lip and took a deep breath, sensing Dean coming closer. “No, you may not get in with me,” he said, refusing to open his eyes.

* * *

When Samuel looked at him suspiciously, Dean gave the angel his most innocent smile he could manage. Probably not fooling him in the slightest, but Sam still turned around to let him wash his back. He wondered if, days ago, Samuel would have allowed him even this. Did that mean the angel trusted him more now, or… trusted him less, and just didn’t care?

Either way, he wasn’t sorry… he just couldn’t be.

For a moment the young man just allowed himself to look at the expanse of strong chiseled muscles underneath smooth skin that seemed to go on forever. His eyes traveling from Samuel’s shoulders to the curve of his ass, and Dean felt his heart speed up a little more.

He wanted to press himself completely up against the angel’s back. Wrap his arms around Samuel’s waist and just hold him. Touch him. Press hot wet kisses to the back of his neck.

Instead he simply placed his soapy hands on the angel’s back, and Dean tried not to take it personally when he felt Samuel tense underneath his hands. Trying to move his hands in a slow, relaxing, way. Washing away the last traces of blood from the angel’s skin, but allowing his touch to linger long after he had.

Biting his lip as his hands grew bolder, sliding down over the swell of Samuel’s ass…

He couldn’t say he was surprised when Samuel quickly pushed his way past him out of the shower then. Not surprised, but more than a little disappointed too.

Dean finished his own shower slowly. Watching Samuel in the bathtub through the glass. Imagining it was the angel’s hands on him instead of his own as he washed. To his further disappointment, Samuel didn’t open his eyes once, however. This wasn’t going very well.

With a sigh Dean finally turned off the shower and stepped out. Wrapping a towel around his waist, however he didn’t leave the bathroom. He couldn’t help but smile a little at Samuel’s words. He didn’t try to get into the tub with the angel, but sat down on the edge of it. When it became clear that Sam wasn’t going to look at him, Dean simply started talking.

“Why is it a sin?”

* * *

Sam was sharply aware of the fact Dean had come out of the shower and was moving around. Under his lashes, he'd caught a glimpse of his naked back and ass before Dean swung a towel around himself and turned around.

His heart leaped at the sight of Dean advancing toward him, but he kept his eyes hooded. Maybe if he didn't talk, didn't acknowledge him, Dean would tire of him and go outside.

No such luck. He was sitting close, too close... it was too hard to ignore him. Or his question.

Sam swallowed and opened his eyes slowly. He searched Dean's face and saw that he was being serious. "Angels are supposed to be chaste." The way he was looking at Dean, and the way those droplets of water sliding down Dean's chest had him mesmerized, he was about as far from chaste as he could possibly be right now.

He blew out a breath. "Exactly why? I don't know." He'd been asking himself that lately. "There are many theories. Maybe it's our gift to God, in return for all of the powers and gifts we have. Maybe it's because we're supposed to love all... and if you love one," he met Dean's gaze briefly, "then the math is off. Or maybe it's similar to the demands some faiths make on their priests or the like. I don't know everything, Dean. It just is."

For the first time ever, Sam wished he were human. Twisting a lever harder than necessary, he set the jets on the highest level.

* * *

Dean frowned in confusion as Samuel went on to ‘explain’ why angels were supposed to remain ‘chaste’, as he put it.

A gift to God? How was not having sex a gift to god? Whether it was a ‘gift’ or not, that still didn’t explain what made it a _sin_ for angels to do it. Especially considering humans did it all the time. Hell, that’s how humans were _born_ , so why weren’t they all going to hell? And if angels couldn’t have sex, how were angel babies born?

Dean had to almost literally bite his tongue to keep from asking _that_ question. He was trying to stay on track, after all.

The young man only raised an eyebrow in a kind of ‘are you kidding me’ expression when Sam actually said it might have something to do with _numbers_. Ok, he thought he understood, Sam needed to care about everyone… but why couldn’t he care about him a little more? Maybe that made him selfish, but people got married all the time. They loved one person best, so why couldn’t Samuel love him best… like he loved Samuel…

Dean was still frowning when the angel turned up the jets on the Jacuzzi, probably trying to imply the conversation was over, but the young man refused to take the ‘hint’.

“You don’t know why… You never asked why?” He finally said slowly, almost like he was talking aloud to himself, trying to puzzle it out. “Who told you that you couldn’t have sex in the first place? Did God tell you?”

* * *

Sam ran his hand over his face, holding back a groan. "No one ever told you curiosity killed the cat, did they?" When had questions become so hard to answer?

He drew a deep breath. "You don't sit around chit chatting with God about sex, Dean. It's just a rule, always has been. Thousands of years on thousands of years." Unchangeable. The word reverberated painfully in his head.

His gaze flicked over to meet Dean's. "Besides, it's not as if I think about sex all the time. I've been curious sometimes, but never tempted. Not until... I mean I didn't know how it felt... you're killing me here. Can you get dressed? We can talk later," he cocked his head to the side. "Or e-mail me..." Wasn't half bad an idea, then he'd have time to think on the answers. Yeah, the look on Dean's face said he didn't have a prayer...

* * *

  
_Why not?_ It was on the tip of his tongue to ask. After all, why not ask God? If it was his rule, or whatever, who better to know? Not to mention that angels had a distinct advantage that God might actually answer the questions they asked, unlike everyone else in the world who had to guess.

But Samuel went on to explain that he hadn’t even really thought about sex before. That he had been curious, but not tempted before. Until…

Dean filled in the rest of that sentence, and a huge grin broke out on his face in spite of himself.

_You weren’t tempted until me._ No one else. Samuel had never felt this way about anyone but him. Maybe he should still feel guilty about that. For making the angel want to ‘sin’ but so far Samuel hadn’t told him any good reason why it was a sin in the first place. Just that it was a ‘rule’ and he didn’t even know why.

The young man laughed outright when Samuel told him to ‘e-mail’ him about it. His eyes still dancing with mirth as he leaned down to capture the angel’s lips with his own before Samuel could protest. Kissing him slowly and thoroughly. Dean was definitely starting to get the hang of this kissing thing.

When the young man finally released the angel’s lips, he was breathing a little heavily. Licking his lips Dean smiled like the cat that had just gotten the canary.

“Sounds like a pretty stupid rule to me.” He whispered before he stood up and walked to the door, enormously pleased with himself. Giving Samuel a break, for now.

* * *

As Dean nailed Sam with his conclusion that he was the only one who’d tempted him, Sam could literally feel the other man’s smugness. About to tell him that no one liked smug people, he was proven wrong when Dean’s mouth slanted over his. There was nowhere to run, and Sam could either refuse to respond or...

Yeah, the ‘or’ won, and he kissed Dean back, careful not to let it get out of control this time. The look on Dean’s face though, once they broke the kiss... it almost had Sam weeping with worry.

Then his little parting shot echoed Sam’s favorite line when he was about to break a rule. Closing his eyes, he leaned back. It was either weep or laugh. He chose the latter, concentrating hard and envisioning Bobby Singer pulling Dean over his lap and letting his heavy hand land on his ass three times. _That is what you deserve, you smart ass._  


* * *

Dean had made it all the way to his room before he felt the heavy smacks to his ass, accompanied by Samuel’s mental image of Bobby doing the spanking.

Oh, that was _so_ wrong.

The young man hesitated for a moment, but only a moment, before sending an image right back to the angel. The product of a certain picture he had found one day when he was surfing on the internet.

Samuel leaning against the wall, his jeans bunched down around his hips. Dean’s hands clutching his ass, as he knelt in front of the angel. Taking Samuel’s hard cock into his mouth…

The huge splash Dean heard from the bathroom accompanied by a string of garbled curses and lots of thumping and scrambling around had the young man collapsing down onto his bed in a fit of laughter. Just imagining the look on Samuel’s face had tears streaming down his face as he clutched at his stomach unable to stop giggling like a madman.

Oh god, he couldn’t wait until he could try it for real.

* * *

A couple of hours later, they were sitting in front of the television. Too tired to fix a proper dinner, Samuel had made them sandwiches and brought out the infernal chips that Dean had gotten him addicted to.

“Don’t get used to the eating in front of t.v. thing, I know how quickly you take to bad habits,” he warned, giving Dean a look. “And don’t even think about pulling out the sprouts... they’re good for you.” Seeing rebellion written all over Dean’s face, he shook his head. “If I can eat your chips, you can eat my sprouts.”

Dammit. The minute those words left his lips, Sam’s color rose. It was idiotic, but it sounded like he had a double meaning, which he didn’t. He pushed the remote toward Dean. “Pick what you want.”

Then he poured himself a glass of wine. Though he’d brought Dean a coke, he had an extra glass. “Do you want to try a little? Whiskey isn’t really the best thing to try as your first taste of liquor.” He’d smelled it off Dean’s breath last night and knew that was the drink that had been spiked.

* * *

Lounging on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, Dean stuck his tongue out at the angel. Rolling his eyes, because he knew just how much Samuel hated it, when Samuel ordered him to eat his ‘sprouts’ because they were ‘good’ for him.

Samuel had been bossier than normal, ever since the whole bathtub incident. Though he was sure that the angel would deny holding a grudge. It wasn’t his fault that the angel couldn’t take a joke, and Samuel had started it to begin with. It probably didn’t help though that every time Dean thought about it he couldn’t stop from grinning like an idiot.

Though he almost choked on his previously mentioned sprouts when the angel suddenly blushed impressively after his comment that would have been perfectly innocent if he _hadn’t_ blushed. Dean fought the urge to laugh outright by flipping through the television channels looking for something good to watch.

He looked at the angel in mild surprise however when Samuel offered him a drink. Whiskey… is that what he’d had last night that had given him such a headache this morning? Dean could barely remember the bar he’d gone to last night but based on this morning he would have to agree with the angel that whatever he’d had wasn’t good for his first time drinking alcohol.

Dean certainly didn’t want to wake up feeling like that again, so maybe he’d just try a little.

“Ok.”

* * *

Sam didn’t know whether to be mollified or miffed. A little of both probably. He could totally tell that Dean was still dwelling on his earlier victory, even if he was half covering his laughs and eating the sprouts.

“Alright. Small sips, hmm? And you might not like it. It’s an acquired taste. You know on Fridays the guys at Bobby’s go out after work. You might want to go for beers with them. They’re safe... they’d watch over you.” He didn’t want Dean to be afraid and hang back, he wanted him to be able to enjoy life and be normal. At the same time, he was so afraid for him...

He took a deep breath and smiled. “People do that, they hang out with people from work after work. Here.” A jolt of electric heat passed through him when their fingers brushed. His eyes met Dean’s and he almost looked away. Just when had everything about his wayward ward turned so damned sexy?

* * *

Dean wasn't exactly sure what to say when the angel started talking about how he should go out for drinks with the guys from Bobby's garage. So he decided to say nothing at all. Accepting the offered glass of wine from Samuel with a slight shrug and taking a small sip from it. Deciding it wasn't bad, but like the angel said, probably something to get used to.

"Not bad." He admitted. At least it washed down the taste of those damn sprouts.

Well, at least he should probably feel relieved, or something, that at least Samuel wasn't insisting he go out with what's her name again… Nicole… The guys at Bobby's had seemed nice enough, though he couldn't say he was all that comfortable around them. He'd only met them once, after all, so he couldn't be sure but he trusted Samuel's opinion. Most of the time.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder why Sam was bringing this up now. _He_ was absolutely exhausted from the day, so he knew that Samuel must be too. But the angel was talking again about how he should 'socialize' more. Maybe Samuel really thought if he pushed him off on others he'd forget about how he felt for him. Isn't that basically what the angel had said before? Chocolate vs. strawberry…

The young man made a face as he started flipping through the television channels again. He'd finished his sandwich and felt his eyes stating to get heavy earlier than normal, which probably wasn't much of a surprise, but he fought against it. He wasn't ready for the angel to tell him he should go to bed though. He wasn't a kid. Damn it.

However when the television ended up on a channel that showed two men kissing passionately on the screen, Dean's eyes opened a little wider and in interest. The kissing quickly developed into more and… wow… Dean really loved cable TV. The young man set the remote aside, out of the angel's reach.

* * *

Leaning back and relaxing, Sam almost choked on his sandwich. The scene on the screen reminded him too much of the passion that kept erupting between himself and Dean. Looking away from the scene, he reached for his glass, hoping it would end quickly.

No such luck. It went on and on, with one of the men in the scene mounting the other... then there was the sound effects. He didn’t really know where to look, other than eyeing the remote which was strategically on Dean’s other side.

He studied Dean’s profile, noting the rapt attention he was paying to the scene. It only meant trouble. Taking a deep breath, Sam only let it out when the scene moved on.

“Sci fi channel has a new show,” he threw out. He’d been keeping an eye out for shows that Dean might like. “Robots versus vampires, with laser guns and lots of blood. Just up your alley.”

* * *

Though Dean had watched far ‘worse’ videos and seen far more graphic pictures on the internet of men and women having sex, somehow it was different watching this on the TV with Samuel sitting right next to him. More… intense… somehow. Though he had been interested and more than a little curious by those pictures, this might be the first time he’d felt really aroused by what he was watching. Where before he only got aroused once he started to imagine him and Samuel doing the same thing.

Dean could tell that the angel was more than a little uncomfortable by his choice of shows, but strangely enough Samuel didn’t tell him to change the channel. He was also hyper aware of the angel’s eyes on him, even though Dean never looked away from the scene. Watching the two men kiss and caress each other, eventually one of them taking the other, moaning in unison, as they moved together and Dean held his breath. It was intense, passionate, and… hot, but more than just sex…

It was what he wanted it to be like between him and Samuel.

The young man glanced at the angel with an amused grin once the scene ended and Sam finally ‘suggested’ he change the channel.

“This is good.” Dean said, before snuggling up against the angel’s side and settling in to watch the adventures of Brian, Justin, Michael, and other characters in the surprisingly entertaining show even without all of the gay sex in it.

He decided he was definitely going to have to remember when this came on every week and watch it again. Maybe even tape it… for research…

* * *

“Good...?” What was good about a bunch of angst-ridden people who ran themselves ragged chasing after elusive things such as loves they could never have and ... who got more sex than could possibly be healthy. Looking down and seeing how comfortable Dean looked leaning against him, and knowing how tired he was, Sam didn’t have the heart to move to the dinner table... or away from the room altogether.

He finished his sandwich up, passing most of his chips to Dean and washing his food down with the wine. Then it started again, more sex in Technicolor and in his face. One man had his legs wrapped around the waist of another and they were going it at it so hard and fast on a roof top on a cold night that their every breath left a stream of misted air, punctuating the desperate movements of their bodies. He didn’t want to imagine doing that with Dean, he really didn’t. Forcing his mind and eyes away from the t.v., he started to reach for his glass... but then he heard Dean’s audible swallow and suddenly all of his insides tightened as did his briefs under his pajamas. Was he going to have to fight these feelings 24/7 now?

The slight squirming next to him had him tensing but luckily the scene faded to black. Sam’s gaze met Dean’s, and neither one talked for a while. Thinking he needed to say something, Sam licked his lip. “Dean, you know how watching that... two men, how it made you feel? How is it when you watch a man and woman together? Same or...” Turned out this was no less awkward than watching sex.

* * *

When the credits started rolling for the show, Dean was rather disappointed. The show having ended just as he was really starting to get into it, but he supposed that was the whole point. He’d especially enjoyed the last scene. He didn’t have to guess to know that Samuel had been having similar thoughts he was watching it. Of the two of them together. He could feel it. Both in the tension of the body next to him and the low thrum of arousal traveling back and forth across their bond.

Dean turned his head to look up at the angel, a small smile curving his lips. God, how he wanted to lean up the few inches it would take to press his lips against Samuel’s again. Tracing the angel’s lips with his tongue before delving inside and tasting him slowly. Dean had a feeling he’d enjoy the taste of the wine a lot more mixed with Samuel’s own unique taste… He wondered how it would taste on his tongue… licking it off his chest…

The young man came out of his thoughts at Samuel’s unexpected question and Dean tilted his head to the side. Considering it a moment before he shrugged a little.

“I hadn’t thought about it. Why?” Dean asked curiously.

* * *

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Sam sighed. “Every question doesn’t need to be answered with another question.” At least the show was over, there was that. But he was finding that the demands of one’s body didn’t recede that fast, and sometimes it made him a little edgy.

“Most people are attracted either to men or to women. I’d like to know...” he trailed off, nodded to the side and gestured with his hand in a way that made it clear that Dean should ‘fill in the blank.’ Course that dratted boy didn’t. He was gonna make him have to spell it out.

“Are you attracted to women? At all? I mean, if what you’d just watched had been between a man and woman...” the intensity of Dean’s green eyes was making Samuel nervous, even though ordinarily it would be the human who should be in awe of an angel. It was enough to make him want to curse. “Dean you know what I’m asking you.” His lips flattened into a straight line as he forced himself to hold Dean's gaze.

* * *

Amusement flickered in Dean’s eyes at the angel’s frustrated answer. The young man wasn’t even trying to be frustrating this time. He simply didn’t understand the question, or why Samuel was asking him in the first place.

Most people were attracted to men or to women? Ok… that made sense. He supposed.

But Samuel still hadn’t answered _his_ question of why he wanted to know. He continued to look up at the angel with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to get to the point… but apparently there wasn’t any.

“I’m attracted to you.” Dean finally answered honestly, grinning up at the angel.

* * *

Even as his heart leaped, Sam looked at Dean in exasperation. “I know that! What I’m asking...” lifting his glass, he drained its contents, this time hardly appreciating the taste of the fine wine he’d so carefully selected. Setting the empty glass down, he got up, leaving Dean on the sofa and looking at down at him.

“Forget about me for a minute,” he said tightly. “Most humans are attracted to angels... it’s different.” Though not the extent of Dean’s attraction, or at least that’s what he thought. He’d never had a direct link to anyone like he did with Dean.

“Do women do it for you. Men? Both?” Seeing the blank stare, he sent Dean a visual. First a curvy woman in jeans, and a top that showed of her midriff, kissing him and pulling him down on top of her. Then a man in jeans but shirtless, straddling Dean on a chair the way Dean had straddled him. _Which do you like better?_

Holy hell, was it possible to be jealous of the images you created yourself? Damn... he was gonna be spending a whole lot more hours on his knees...

* * *

Both of Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise when Samuel got up from the couch suddenly and the young man had to quickly right himself or fall over. He stared up at the angel who was looking down at him less frustrated it seemed and quickly moving towards angry. Something Dean simply didn’t understand in the least. He’d answered Sam’s question. Why did he keep asking…

Dean began to frown. Starting to get a little irritated himself, especially when Samuel said to just ‘forget’ about him for a moment. Completely dismissing the young man’s feelings for the angel as he’d done since the beginning.

Why couldn’t Samuel simply accept that he loved him? Wanted him? Just him, no one else…

Dean’s eyes widened, flinching sharply when he was suddenly assaulted… there was really no other way to put it… by images of a woman, and then a man, doing things to him. Samuel demanding afterwards to know which he liked _better_.

He responded by throwing up a barrier between their minds quickly. His own eyes angry now as he stood up abruptly, glaring at the angel.

“Don’t do that again.” Dean said tightly before storming off towards his room.

* * *

Samuel flinched at both the angry words and the fast withdrawal from his mind. A cold space remained where there had been warmth and love.

He sat down for a moment, rehashing what happened. Maybe he’d gotten too used to using the mind link as a short cut, to show Dean what he meant. They’d both been doing that... it was almost second nature now but maybe it was time to stop.

Something about that thought saddened Sam. Taking a deep breath, he got up and started putting things away, unconsciously trying to close his mind, the way Dean was adept at doing. By the time he got to bed, he knew it was an exercise in futility. He’d have to try again when he was less weary.

His bed was as comfortable as ever, his soft thick duvet covering him. He turned on his side, and stared out of the slats of the shutters, waiting for a ‘good night’ to be whispered in his head head. He waited a long time, before sleep finally claimed him.

* * *

Even before he shut the door to his room Dean had decided he absolutely hated being angry at Samuel like this. Even if it was the angel’s fault for being so damned… stubborn!

Why was it so damned important to Samuel to know if he liked men or women? He’d told Samuel. He was attracted to him. Just him. No one else. Ever. He loved him… why couldn’t he just accept that? Especially since he knew that Samuel wanted him too…

He knew this was all because Sam was trying to push him off onto someone else. Someone like Nicole or… whoever… Damn it, he wasn’t going to fall in love with someone else just because Samuel wanted him to! He didn’t _want_ anyone else, god damn it!

Dean crawled into his bed, his heart aching and feeling lonelier than he had since leaving the asylum. He almost didn’t think he’d be able to sleep at all, he felt so bad, especially without even the link between him and the angel for comfort, but sheer exhaustion from the day’s events pulled him under.

In sleep forgetting his anger. The barrier around his mind dropping as he unconsciously reached out for the angel.

_Samuel…_   



	6. Chapter 6

[Dream]  


  
Samuel walked out of the warmth of the library and across the courtyard twelve stories above ground level, and stood looking through the window pane of another unit. They couldn't see him, but he watched them...

Two men sat across from each other, separated by a table, but from their expressions it was clear that physical distance meant nothing. They spoke, but in their own language. Words, gestures, looks that passed between them, a certain angle of a tilted head had the other smiling.

It was funny. Even when it was silent between them, and each was finishing the food on his plate... he just knew there wasn't really a silence. A lump rose in his throat. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, his heart yearning.

Things would be so much easier if he were human. Maybe. The image of angry green eyes was emblazoned in his memory. He blinked it away, swallowing hard as one of the men got up and pulled the other one to his feet. It wasn't the stark desire in the tall one's face that got his attention, it was the gentle way he pulled the other close and whispered in his ear, before taking his mouth.

_Samuel..._

Sam didn't answer. The backlash of his earlier use of the link was still loading down on his heart.

"Samuel."

This time he turned at the sound of Dean's voice, swallowing hard when he saw him standing at the French doors, holding a bowl of strawberries. He was wearing white pajama bottoms, and Sam could see right through them because the light was behind him.

Dragging his eyes away, he looked at the men again, but they were pushing and pulling each other... leaving.

"Samuel."

Turning back, Sam felt his blood thicken... his heart quicken. Everything he wanted... the only thing he'd ever really wanted... right there... calling him. He shook his head. "You make me want to sin."

This time, instead of a hurt look, his rebellious ward merely gave him a heated look and walked inside the library.

Caught. Hook, line and sinker, Samuel walked barefooted across the cold cement flor and entered, pulling the door shut behind him.

* * *

Dean didn’t recognize the room he walked into, he’d never seen any place like it, but for some reason that didn’t really bother him.

It had a very welcoming feel to it. Comforting, somehow. Old oil lamps and candles filling the room with a softer, warmer, light than he was used to. All the furniture was made of dark wood and looked rather comfortable despite being obvious antiques. Shelves lined every wall filled with books, and there was a fire burning in the fireplace across the room. Heating the air and warming his skin even though he was dressed in practically nothing but a pair of loose white pajama bottoms.

He walked slowly towards the fireplace. Chuckling a little when he noticed the bearskin rug laying on the floor in front of the fireplace. How cliché could you get? But it felt surprisingly plush soft underneath his bare feet and he sighed a little as he wiggled his toes.

Turning around to set down the bowl, he hadn’t even realized was in his hands till now, on a table between two comfortable looking armchairs. A bowl of fresh ripe strawberries, his mouth practically watered with wanting to taste them.

It was then he heard a door shut softly behind him and Dean turned around. A pleased smile pulling at his lips when he saw who was there.

“Samuel…”

* * *

He stood at the door, staring intently at Dean. What was it about this man, and this man alone that got him so tangled inside? He needed to know... before it drove him crazy.

In a few long strides, he was standing in front of Dean... inches separating his black pajama clad body from Dean’s. Reaching out, he ran his knuckles down the side of Dean’s face, over the contours of his cheeks and jaw line, down the side of his neck, and then splaying his palm across his throat and bringing it back up so he could run his thumb back and forth across Dean’s mouth.

His heart was tumbling in his chest as he tried to put into words, what he saw. “Raphael is supposed to be the most beautiful angel, but I never saw anyone as beautiful as you. He has the straightest nose, but it does nothing for me,” he said in a husky voice he barely recognized. Bending his head, he ran his mouth over the slight bump on Dean’s nose, lingering to kiss it. “And your eyes... they’re like fire. I should be immune, but they burn me. They make me catch fire and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Move away. Leave him. Leave him be.

Even the thought hurt him. Licking his lips, he leaned in again and kissed Dean’s forehead, moving his mouth over every inch of his face, memorizing it for all time, before pulling away.

“Do you still want strawberries?” The scent of the fruit permeated the air around them.

* * *

Dean stood still, barely even able to breathe, as Samuel approached him slowly. Utterly mesmerized by the way the angel’s body moved. The way the candlelight played in golden highlights and deep shadows against his toned, muscled, chest. He looked like a walking work of art. The most beautiful thing Dean had ever laid eyes on.

The young man’s breath hitched in his throat when Sam reached out to touch his face so tenderly. Making his skin flush and tingle everywhere the angel touched. Dean swallowed when Sam’s hand touched his throat. His lips parting a little, his breath growing heavier, when the angel’s thumb ghosted over them.

He felt his insides go a little weak when Samuel called him beautiful… more beautiful than an angel? Dean found that so hard to believe, especially since he didn’t think anyone could possibly be more beautiful than Samuel.

His lips quirked a little bit in amusement however when Samuel went on to talk about his nose of all things. Kissing it. He’d told Samuel once already he read too much damn poetry and… Dean’s thoughts all came to a pause, even as a sweet, almost achingly sweet, warmth began to fill him with every brush of the angel’s lips across his face. Soft, loving, and so… real…

But this was a dream. Somehow Dean knew he was dreaming, but…

_Samuel?_

Dean looked up into the angel’s face. His eyes wide with wonder. Drowning in Samuel’s gaze.

“I want you.” He whispered. Leaning in closer to the angel. His hands coming to rest on the bare skin of Samuel’s chest. Dean could feel his warmth. The angel’s heart beating beneath his hand. Oh god… how was this happening? He didn’t care… “Only you…”

* * *

The angel’s nostrils flared. Just two steps and he had Dean backed up against the shelves. He wanted... needed to worship every part of him. Taking Dean’s hand off his chest, he put it on the ladder, and then he took his other hand, and put it on one of the shelves. _Keep them there. Please._

Fighting the urge to touch Dean with his hands, Samuel gripped the shelves on either side of Dean’s shoulders and pulled himself forward, until they were chest to chest. He slid against him a few times, biting his lower lip at the rush of heat surging toward his cock. His skin prickled with awareness, burned everywhere he brushed against Dean, and when he felt Dean pushing back, it was like a dam broke and he was defenseless against the needs that had been ravaging his body for days.

Slanting his mouth over Dean’s, he swept his tongue inside, exploring, stroking, tasting strawberries and innocence. The pang of guilt was nothing in comparison to the firestorm of emotions that overtook him. _Want you. Only you,_ he echoed over and over, kissing him harder, with a wild recklessness that was unfamiliar to him.

With each kiss, each stab of his tongue, the need to have Dean grew. He wanted to touch him so bad, and he shared his need... his mental images of hands exploring, groping, gripping, driving him wilder even as he resisted. His biceps bulged with the strain as he pushed and pulled himself against Dean, moving so hard some of the books started to fall around them. And still... he didn’t touch...

* * *

Dean gasped as Samuel backed him up against one of the bookshelves. His heart beating harder in his chest. Nervousness, excitement, making him tremble a little as his hands were placed on the shelf and ladder beside him. He licked his lips, staring up into the angel’s hungry eyes. So much heat in them he felt like he was burning up from the inside out.

And then Samuel was pressing up against him. Their whole bodies rubbing together as the angel moved and Dean’s breath left him in a shuddering gasp. His eyes rolling closed, his head falling back with a whimpering moan. Before the sounds of pleasure he was making were swallowed up by Samuel’s lips.

Dean gripped the shelf beside him hard, the wood biting into his fingertips trying to hold himself up but it was really only the angel’s body keeping him upright at the moment. It felt so good. So good… Samuel’s mouth, his body, his heat rolling over him in waves. The friction of their bodies rubbing together making him so hard he was aching and leaking within seconds, but he still needed more. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

“Please Samuel… please…” He whimpered between kisses, gasping desperately for breath. _Need you. Please touch me._  


* * *

Dean’s plea ignited the fires smoldering in Samuel. His hands slipped off the shelves, and he gripped Dean’s shoulders, running his hands along his arms and back. Pulling back only slightly, he watched the play of golden light on dancing across Dean’s chest, emphasizing with shadows and light every masculine plane of his body.

Sam ran his palms over Dean’s chest and abs, mesmerized by the way Dean tensed and shuddered under his hands. The unexpected intensity of lust coursing through his body in reaction sent his senses reeling. “Dean... so fucking beautiful.” He wasn’t even aware he’d sworn as he pressed his mouth into Dean’s throat and then slowly lowered himself down to his knees, leaving a fiery trail of open mouthed, hot, slick kisses all the way to the waistband of Dean’s pajama bottoms.

He looped his arms around Dean, cupping his ass, then moving his hands up and down the back of his legs as he looked up at him. The heat in Dean’s eyes were almost his undoing. Groaning, he put his forehead against Dean’s stomach, resting there for a minute before moving his mouth over the clear outline of Dean’s shaft visible through the white pajamas. He felt Dean shudder, and a white hot bolt of electricity ripped through him.

His heart was thundering, the blood pounding at his forehead. He’d never done this, he wanted to get it right. Once more, he kissed Dean over the pants, then hooked his fingers into their waistband and slipped the thin material down his hips, and to the ground. His gaze was laser focused on Dean’s fully erect cock, his mouth burned for a taste as he looked up and started moving toward it.

* * *

The first brush of Samuel’s fingers over his skin, and Dean thought he might just die. No, he would die if the angel stopped touching him. If Samuel pushed him away again. The young man whimpered when the angel pulled back, even as he arched into the hands that slid over his chest and stomach. His body trembling with so much need he felt like he was going to shake apart. That the angel’s hands roaming over his flesh were the only things holding him together.

Dean’s head fell back, another whimper breaking its way out of his throat when he felt the angel’s lips kiss his neck. His eyelashes fluttering closed, his breath quickening when those sinful lips left hot, wet, kisses down his front.

He forced his eyes open, looking down at the angel on his knees in front of him. Wanting, needing, to watch even as the sight left him almost unable to breathe. He might as well have been wearing nothing at all, the thin pants he was wearing not hiding his hard leaking cock at all. Or really any barrier when he felt the angel’s hands slide over his ass.

The young man moaned, pushing back into the hands that gripped his ass, even as the feeling of Samuel’s hot breath on him through the thin pants he was wearing made him want to push forward. Seeking out more of the warmth, and sweet pleasure his mouth promised. His hands gripped the shelves behind him harder. Trying desperately to find something to support him, something he sorely needed when the angel’s lips finally traced along the outline of his shaft through the thin material and his knees nearly gave out completely.

“Samuel…” The sound he made was something between a moan and a desperate whine, he probably should have been embarrassed over, but he didn’t care. Because Samuel was now sliding down his pajamas. The soft material caressing his hips and legs teasing him, leaving him a shuddering mess of nerves, and then he was standing there naked in front of the angel’s hungry gaze.

His fingers wove their way into Samuel’s hair. He hadn’t even realized he’d let go of the shelves until he felt the soft strands sliding through his fingers. He could barely believe this was happening. Even in a dream…

“Please…”

* * *

Sam’s entire body reacted to the desperate plea. _It’s a damned good thing you don’t know what you do to me when your voice goes deep like that._ The slight nudge at the back of his head put him in motion. He grasped Dean’s cock, moving his hand over it… marveling at how it was both velvety smooth and hard as steel at the same time.

Mouth to cock. The image flashed in his mind, swamping him with need, and he wasn’t sure whose imagination it was anymore. Opening his mouth, he kissed Dean’s tip, lingering, then running his tongue around his crown. The low sound that broke from Dean only made him yearn to drive Dean closer to the edge.

He licked the flat of his tongue down the side of Dean’s cock, and then dragged it back up its underside, always aware … very aware of the sensations he was causing, and sharing them. For a long time, he licked and teased, learned what it felt like to touch Dean with his tongue, what he tasted like, and how he reacted to different levels of pressure. Then Dean’s hips were thrusting forward, and he couldn’t ignore the boy’s needs anymore than his own craving to take him inside his mouth.

Opening his mouth, he sucked Dean’s crown, then relaxed his jaw and took as much of him as he could. When he sucked… dear God, Dean’s reaction had his senses reeling. He did again, and again, moving his mouth up and down, squeezing the base of Dean’s cock with one hand, and holding his ass with the other. As Dean started to buck, a new desire hit Sam. _I want you. Under me. Just like this._ He didn’t care if Dean realized how desperate he was now.

* * *

Dean had dreamed about feeling Sam’s hand on him, craving his touch again ever since the first time. Every time he touched himself, he imagined it was the angel’s fingers playing with him rather than his own, but it had never felt as good. Now, feeling those warm fingers circling around him, sliding up and down his length. It was so good, so damn good, the young man had to fight not to lose himself within seconds just from that little friction. Especially when he knew there was more to come. Samuel’s soft lips kissing the tip of his shaft, his hot wet tongue circling around…

“Oh god…” The young man groaned low in his throat. His fingers tightening in the angel’s hair without realizing it. His head falling back, his eyes rolling closed, lips parted and panting as pleasure like he’d never experienced before, never imagined, overwhelmed him. Every touch of the angel’s tongue on his sensitive flesh leaving him trembling with need. His hips instinctively thrusting forward for more.

“Sam!” Dean cried out his lover’s name desperately when he felt the angel’s lips wrapping around him. His hips bucking against his will as Sam took him inside his hot wet mouth, sucking on his cock. Making every nerve ending in his body explode with pleasure. He heard the angel's desire whisper through his mind and if not for Sam's fingers holding around the base of his cock he probably would have come right then.

“Yes… oh God, yes… Sam…”

* * *

Coming to his feet, Sam stood inches away from Dean. Wordlessly, he pushed his pants down just enough to free his aching cock. As he swayed forward, Dean came into his arms, and they were kissing, and pushing against each other, skin to skin.

Sam had his hands on Dean’s ass and lifted him up, dragging him up hard against his arousal, groaning as his cock dragged against Dean's. “Legs around me,” he said, and then they were standing there, fucking against each other, and the damn books were falling again. Fire inched through Sam’s veins, made his heart pound with a terrible need.

He started to walk backwards, still lifting Dean up and down his body, helping him ride him as he ungracefully made his way toward the bearskin in front of the fire. “Unh… unh… Good... so good.” Holding him tight, he let Dean slid down and once his feet touched the rug, helped him lay back. On his knees, Sam stripped his pants off completely and tossed them aside.

As he looked down at Dean, his heart gave an awkward tumble. He did love him. Loved him in a way he shouldn’t. Loved him in the way he’d seen in the expression of the man next door. Swallowing hard, he straddled Dean’s hips, and sat down, sliding his ass up and down over Dean’s erection, and stroking his chest… watching him, dying for another taste… and knowing one taste would never be enough. Not ever.

He crawled up Dean’s body, bracing his weight slightly as he brought his hips down and started to thrust. Sam moved excruciatingly slowly, enjoying the pleasure and pain… fighting both the needs of his body and Dean’s. He wanted to watch him come apart… he needed to. _No. Don’t close your eyes._  


* * *

For one horrifying moment Dean believed that Samuel had actually changed his mind and was stopping. That the angel was going to push him away as he’d done before, and the young whimpered, practically in pain with need when Sam released his cock and stood. He reached desperately for the angel, prepared to beg, anything to convince him not to stop, but the young man realized quickly that Sam wasn’t moving away.

He gasped sharply as he watched the angel free his cock, beautifully hard and flushed with arousal, and Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Samuel’s shoulders when the angel pulled him close. Whimpering into the kiss, his fingers digging into the hard muscles of Samuel’s back, clinging to the angel as he was pulled tightly against his body. Samuel’s hard cock like a hot iron brand against his stomach, Samuel’s lips making him burn, and God he wanted it… so much…

Then Sam was lifting him into his arms like he weighed nothing at all, and Dean wound his legs around the angel’s hips. All the breath seeming to leave his lungs in a low groan of pleasure when the angel pushed him back up against the bookcase and thrust against him. The angel’s cock dragging against his own and leaving a hot wet trail across his stomach, and Dean was far beyond any thought other than to cling tighter, push harder, wanting, needing more, always more.

He almost wasn’t sure how they ended up on the rug in front of the fireplace without toppling over in an undignified way and it probably would have been amusing as hell if he could think of anything else other than the need to touch, kiss, and caress every inch of Sam’s body that he could. Laying there, panting, spread out on the soft rug while Samuel looked down at him he’d never felt so vulnerable and safe at the same time. He stared up at the angel with complete trust. Complete love he couldn’t even begin to express in words, so he simply let his feelings wash across their bond and drowned in the feelings he could feel coming from Samuel in return.

Dean’s hips bucked up as the angel straddled his hips. Rubbing himself hard against his ass. His body arching into the warm strong hands that explored his chest and his own hands slid up the angel’s thighs and hips. Gripping at his waist so hard as Sam moved over him that he was almost afraid he’d leave bruises on the angel’s perfect skin, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Trying to drag Samuel closer, always closer, like he wouldn’t be satisfied until they were one being rather than two.

Oh god it was almost too much… he never imagined it could be like this…

“Samuel…” Dean panted, fighting to keep his eyes open as Samuel asked even when he thought he might just pass out from the overload to his senses. As the angel leaned over him. Their bodies fitting together like they were made for each other, as they moved slowly together. Too damn slowly it almost hurt, but it felt so damn good at the same time he wanted it to last forever.

“I love you…” He whispered breathlessly. His short nails dragging up the length of the angel’s back before his fingers twined in Samuel’s hair and the young man tugged him down for another desperate needy kiss. Moving his tongue over the angel’s like he wanted to feel Sam move against him. Inside of him… oh dear god… He wanted to feel the angel hard and hot and throbbing, moving deep inside him, filling him up, making him forget completely every other way he’d been touched before.

Just imagining the angel pushing his cock inside of him had him shaking with desire. Imagining Sam fucking him… no, he hated that word. What Rick had made him beg for when he’d never wanted it. He wanted Samuel to make love to him.

_Want to feel you inside of me…_ He sent, staring up at the angel with wide pleading eyes. Spreading his legs unashamedly wider, thrusting up harder, faster, dragging his leaking cock against the angel’s as his body trembled harder. At this rate he wasn’t even sure he could last long enough… _Please, touch me inside, Samuel… Please…_  


* * *

Samuel's brows were knitted with concentration, sheer will and the desire to make this moment last, helping him cling to the last threads of his control. Each time he moved, each time he watched Dean struggle to keep his eyes open for him, each glimpse or hunger and need like he'd never seen... never experienced, drove him closer the edge.

His entire body clenched at Dean's words of love. Before he could answer, his head had been pulled down and they were kissing again, so hotly, so desperately, he could barely think. _I know. Me too._

They moved in perfect rhythm, faster, harder against each other, tongues twining, slipping over each other until Sam was breathless. Just when he though the pressure building inside him couldn't grow worse, Dean asked to be touched from the inside. He reared up as urgent need suddenly slammed into him, pooling at his groin, making him thicker and harder when he thought it wasn't possible.

He felt Dean tremble, felt him willing him to do as he asked. Pleading with his eyes and with the motions of his body. Sam was so caught in the grips of the same need to get closer, to be inside Dean, there was no way he could refuse, even if he'd wanted to.

On his knees, Sam sat back with Dean's legs spread on either side of him. His heated gaze traveled up and down Dean's flushed body, nestled against the white fur. His breath caught in his throat. _So beautiful. I want to see you from the inside._

As the words formed in the angel's mind, he both didn't know himself and felt like maybe he'd just found himself. He pulled Dean closer, so his ass rested on his Sam's knees and he ran his hand under Dean, sliding it back and forth in the cleft of his ass. Seeing no signs of anxiety, he started to push his middle finger inside Dean's hole, concentrating so that he a warm heat emanated from his hand, soothing, comforting Dean, helping to loosen him up.

When Dean accepted a second and then a third finger, Sam knew he was ready. Looping his arms under Dean's knees, he gripped Dean's thighs and pulled him closer until his ass was up hard against his throbbing cock. Aligning himself, he closed his eyes at the sheer intensity of lust ripping through him. But he'd asked Dean to keep his eyes open, and he would give him the same pleasure so he forced himself to lock gazes with his lover.

As he started to push inside, somehow one of Dean's legs ended up over his shoulder, the other around his waist, pulling at him, drawing him close even as he tried to be patient and ease himself inside. "Ahhh, tight.. so tight," he said hoarsely, as his crown pushed inside. Electricity arced between them. He bit his lip, gripping Dean's thighs as he struggled for control even as Dean closed around him... and all he wanted was to bury himself to the hilt, again, and again. "Oh God...oh God..." he pressed a little more, tiny beads of sweat rolling down his chest as he gulped in lungfuls of air and struggled for control.

* * *

Dean’s heart beat faster with excitement, even as his body ached with the loss of Samuel’s heat pressing down on him. Even though the angel’s gaze traveling over his naked skin made him feel warm it wasn’t the same. But then Sam was lifting him up, his fingers gently caressing between the cheeks of his ass making his whole body tingle with that one touch, and when the angel’s finger finally pushed inside of him…

“Samuel!” The young man cried out breathlessly, his fingers tangling in the soft rug underneath him and moaning helplessly when he felt an incredible warmth spreading through him from the inside. Soothing his inner muscles even as the feeling forced his passion up to new almost unbearable heights.

It was all he could do not to writhe helplessly on those probing fingers, sobbing with need. His lips parted as he gasped. His eyes glazed as he stared up at the angel, and it was so hard to keep them open as Samuel had asked. They kept wanting to close and just let himself be washed away by the intensity of the feelings coursing through his blood. At the same time he thought he might just die if he didn’t watch. Didn’t see everything. Burning it into his eyes and mind for the rest of his life.

So much of his life he wished he could forget. He never wanted to forget this. Never.

Then Samuel was lifting him higher, opening him wider, and as he felt the head of his lover’s cock pressing against his hole Dean forced himself to relax. Accept. His fingernails dug into the angel’s bicep and a choked moan forced its way out of his throat when he felt Samuel entering him.

“Oh god… Samuel…” Dean echoed his lover’s cries as the angel slowly filled him, joining them together in the most intimate ways, and the young man opened his mind completely to Samuel. As open as his body was, wanting the angel to feel what he felt, know how good it felt, how much he loved him. Everything.

He tried to push against Samuel. Tried to take more of him. All of him.

“Make love to me… please, Sam...”

* * *

The strain of holding still to give Dean’s body a chance to adjust to his entry was almost too much. The angel tried to gain an edge by mentally quoting poetry to keep his mind off of his body’s raging needs. The plan unraveled beautifully the instant Dean fully merged their minds together.

Now Sam was Dealing not only with his desires, but Dean’s needs... his urges... all the things that were in his heart and soul, and it was almost too much. Too much to ask him to hold still. Too much to expect him to be gentle and slow as he’d intended. Too much to ask that he tame the storm of emotions churning inside him.

Sam’s control broke... just like that.

He thrust his hips, biting his lower lip as he buried himself to the hilt inside Dean. The instant he pulled back, almost all the way out, burning waves of desire slammed into him. Giving a strangled cry, he ground his hips again, and they were merged, body and mind... and a part of him wondered about their souls.

An angel should not lust, but with every powerful motion of his hips, he lusted... lusted for Dean, for how he felt inside, for how he squeezed him so tight, for how beautiful and needy he looked with his lips parted and his eyes glazed and unfocused. An angel should never want something to the exclusion of others, but as he pulled Dean’s leg up higher over his shoulder and as he brought them together so hard, he saw white lights flashing behind his eyes, he knew it was a claiming. He was branding Dean, branding him the way Dean had already branded him.

He started to angle his thrusts, short and long, finding what Dean needed... finding the spot that made him gasp, that gave him a piece of heaven, and sharing his pleasure. He arched backward, lifting his hips, picking up the rhythm as he was caught in the grip of something as old as time, and far more powerful than him.

Sheathed deep inside Dean, his cock pulsed and ached, the need for release sneaking up on him. Letting Dean’s leg slide down, Samuel crawled up Dean’s body and started to kiss him as he fucked harder. The merging of their minds was making it hard for him to distinguish his pleasure from Dean’s. All he knew was that with every thrust of his hips, every groan, every heavy breath, and every taste of strawberry, he was one step closer to home.

* * *

“Sam!” Dean all but screamed his lover’s name as Samuel filled his body to the hilt in one quick motion. Their bodies and minds joined. Waves of desire and pleasure like he’d never known, never imagined, his own, Samuel’s, crashing into him leaving him reeling. Rocked to his very core.

His body instinctively arched, lifting his hips to accept the angel as deeply as possible. Deeper. More. He needed more. But then the angel was pulling out, drawing back, leaving him, and Dean almost sobbed. Clutching at the angel blindly, trying desperately to draw him back inside.

And then the angel was thrusting hard inside of him again, and again, and again. Just like he wanted. Needed, and Dean couldn’t stop the cries that were ripped from his throat.

“Yes! Oh god… yes! Samuel…”

He had no idea how it could possibly get more intense, but then suddenly Samuel was changing the angle of his thrusts and it was like an electric current of pure pleasure shot through his whole body, and he wondered how his brain didn’t explode completely. His fingers dug into the angel’s arms so hard he was afraid he was leaving scratches on his skin but he needed something to hold onto or he was going to just come apart completely at the seams.

Heat, both familiar and foreign, because he’d never felt it so intense like this even when Samuel had touched him the first time, pooled in his groin. His cock weeping and so hard it hurt. His balls drawing tight against his body and he knew he wasn’t going to last, despite how he wanted it to go on forever. He didn’t want this ever to end. He never wanted Samuel to leave him… knowing he’d feel empty forever if he did…

When the angel released his legs, he wrapped them tightly around his waist. His arms sliding around Samuel’s back, clinging to the angel every way he possibly could. Moaning desperately into the mouth that covered his own again. Their teeth clashing, tongues moving in time with their bodies.

_I love you. I love you, Samuel…_

Even though he was expecting it, the intensity of his release when it finally hit him had him screaming again. The sound barely muffled as Samuel continued to kiss him. For a few moments he could see nothing but a bright white light, even though his eyes squeezed closed. It was so hot. Burning, and so sweet at the same time. He thought for sure he was going to pass out. That it would be just too much, but he simply held onto Samuel tighter to keep from being swept away. His body shaking like he was having a seizure as his come spilled like liquid fire between their joined bodies.

* * *

The pressure of Dean’s fingers biting into him, the way he clung ... the way he refused to allow even a little space between them was not lost on Sam. _I love you too, Dean._ Sam covered Dean’s mouth and swallowing his every moan, as they rocked harder together.

As Dean started to stiffen, Sam gave in to the firestorm raging out of control low in his belly. Shoving a hand under Dean’s ass, he locked their bodies together, lifting Dean up to meet his every thrust, taking him harder with each thrust of his hips, riding out the storm until white hot heat tore through him and he came deep inside Dean, spilling his seed for the first time ever. Emotions roiled through him, thoughts, needs... if there were a way to stay like this forever, merged in every way possible... if only.

Long after his release, Sam was still moving slowly over Dean, kissing him, touching his face, his throat, his shoulders. _I never understood how alone I was before you._

Holding Dean tight, he rolled them over so that Dean was sprawled over his chest and no longer bearing his weight. “You closed your eyes.” He tried for mock severity, then chuckled, “so did I. But I could still see you.”

* * *

Every muscle in Dean’s body tensed as he felt the angel’s seed spill deep into his body. Samuel’s pleasure slamming into him, twisting around his own until he couldn’t tell the difference between the two, where one ended and the other began, and the overload of sensations was almost too much for him to handle.

He thought if it was possible to go insane with pleasure, he was quickly nearing that edge, if he hadn’t already fallen over. Every movement of his lover’s hips, his hard cock sliding wetly in and out of his ass, riding him through the intense pleasure, was sweet torture it was so amazing, and he just couldn’t stop the weak, needy, and desperate whimpers and moans pulled from him if his life depended on it.

As the pleasure began to recede, he was left feeling so drained he could only lie still. His muscles still shaking as though an electrical current was still being passed through his body, not so far from the truth, he supposed. Letting Samuel support him as he laid utterly boneless and panting like he simply couldn’t get enough air into his lungs no matter how hard he tried.

Oh god… was this normal? Was this how it was supposed to be? Dean felt close to tears and he wasn’t even sure why. Though the soft kisses and touches soothed him, a few did escape and slide down his cheeks when he heard the angel’s mental whisper, because it echoed exactly what was in his own heart.

Dean whimpered softly when he felt Sam move, clinging to the angel tightly, afraid that he might actually be pulling away, and after all that Dean wasn’t sure he could handle it right now. But Samuel wasn’t pulling away, only switching their positions, and the young man was more than happy to sprawl across the angel’s chest. Still panting and shaking a little, though the violent tremors were slowly growing less now.

He smiled softly when he heard Sam’s words and, not really sure where he found the strength, he pushed himself up a little on his arms. Just enough to look down at Samuel, into the angel’s eyes full of love for him, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.

“Promise me you won’t regret this…” Dean whispered, suddenly afraid, feeling the dream begin to fade.

* * *

Sam closed his arms around Dean, sliding his palms down the small of his back, and then in lazy circles over the curve of his ass. "How can you think that?" He started to lift his head to kiss Dean, and something started to happen... something pulled them apart.

***

"Dean!" Samuel jackknifed to a sitting position in his bed. Confused and breathing hard, he tried to piece together what happened. All he knew was that there was an ache between his legs and a warm stickiness was sliding over his thighs.

Scrambling back, he lifted his pajama pants, his eyes growing wide when he saw his bodily fluids. His heart rammed against his chest as he started to remember, as if watching a movie frame by frame, finding Dean in the library, seducing him, taking him, needing him so badly he could have wept. Lust had coursed thickly through his veins. And love. Both forbidden.

He ran his hand through his hair. Oh God, what had he done? What had he dreamed?

*Promise me you won't regret this... *

The words echoed through his mind. His lips parted, but no answer came out.

*

Sam had showered, laundered his clothes, and dressed. By the time he was in the kitchen making French toast and bacon, he'd convinced himself it was just a dream and there would be no consequences. He hadn't really made love to Dean. Dean hadn't clung to him so tight, hadn't told him what was in his heart, hadn't asked for a promise.

There had been much too much turmoil between them. It had to stop, normalize. Then no more dreams would plague him. There. He had a plan. And by God, it would work.

* * *

Dean sat up abruptly in his own bed with a sharp gasp. His heart beating hard and fast in his chest, his body trembling a little, but for once, it was not because of a nightmare. The young man’s eyes darted around the room in confusion. A little surprised to find it was morning. Even more surprised that he was alone.

Samuel…

The dream was still so clear in his mind. Every sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell. He could remember everything. How beautiful Samuel had looked. The moans and sighs he made in pleasure. The taste of his skin, his tongue. The feeling of the angel’s hands moving over his flesh, moving inside of him… the smell of strawberries…

The young man almost laughed at that last part, but he sobered quickly. An ache and unmistakable longing filling his heart as he looked down at the mess he’d made in the front of his pajamas. His skin still tingled from the release he’d found in his sleep, however the ache he knew he should feel inside him from being so full of Samuel was missing and it drove home the fact that as beautiful and amazing as it had been, it was just a dream.

No, not _just_. Samuel had been there. Really been there, somehow, he was sure of it. It was not just his imagination. The angel’s touch had been real, even if it hadn’t been ‘real’. Sam’s admission of desire for him… love… that had been real too.

Dean smiled, his heart suddenly feeling so full of emotion that it felt ready to explode, however again the smile slipped from his face as fear crept into him. The same fear he’d felt right as the dream ended. When he’d asked Samuel to promise…

How can you think that? Samuel had asked him, but Dean knew him. He might have only been living with the angel for a week… god it seemed so much longer… But the angel wasn’t as mysterious or complicated as he might like to think. He knew Samuel would try to regret this, even if he didn’t want to. He’d try to deny it.

Dean wouldn’t let him.

The young man cleaned himself off and laid back down in his bed. He needed time to think. To decide what to do. He heard the angel moving around in the apartment not long after but it wasn’t until he smelled breakfast cooking and his stomach started to grumble hungrily that he finally got up.

Stripping off his pajamas… maybe he should just start going to bed naked so he didn’t have to wash them every morning… and pulling on a pair of jeans and nothing else. Ones that hung low on his hips but hugged his ass and thighs nicely. Running his fingers through his hair he smiled at himself in the mirror.

Samuel didn’t have a chance.

Moments later Dean stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Leaning against the frame, for a moment just watching as Samuel cooked. Drinking in the way he moved. The smells of syrup, cinnimon, and bacon were intoxicating, but not nearly as much as the sight of the angel himself.

He stepped into the kitchen, his eyes hungry for the moment only for Samuel, as he pressed himself up against the angel’s back, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Brushing his lips along the soft skin of the angel’s neck.

* * *

With Dean plastered up against him, Sam’s dream slammed into him full force. His chest tightened, preventing him from saying anything before Dean’s mouth was buried in his neck, instantly wreaking havoc with his senses.

“Ah...is this a novel way of saying mornin’ or did you miss me that much?” Sam tried to make light of it, thinking he’d be released instantly. He wasn’t.

“Dean?” Setting down the spatula, he turned his head. Too close... too close to the mouth he’d been kissing all night, too close to the dream... too close to what his mornings could be like if dreams came true.

Putting his hands over Dean’s forearms, he started to pull them apart, even though, God help him, he wanted nothing more than to be held, to feel the heat from Dean’s chest seep through his clothes, and maybe to turn and give him a ‘good morning kiss’ that would make the toast burn, and the smoke alarms go off.

“This isn’t a good idea. For either of us.” He tried to keep the sadness out of his voice, not wanting to affect Dean with his emotions.

* * *

Rather than being amused by Samuel’s light attempt at a joke, Dean felt his stomach twist with nervousness. The angel wasn’t just going to pretend it didn’t happen… was he?

The young man lifted his face from Sam’s neck when the angel turned to look at him. He met the angel’s gaze. Letting him see his longing. Refusing to look away. Refusing to let go of Sam even when the angel started gently trying to pull out of his embrace.

This isn’t a good idea. For either of us…

Dean felt his heart plummet just a little more, but then he swallowed hard. A determined light entering his eyes. He wasn’t going to let Samuel just brush off what had happened, let him pretend it never happened, and forget about it. He wanted Sam, and if he had to fight for him…

“That’s not what you said last night while you were fucking me.” The young man said softly. Almost wanting to wince a little at his own choice of words, even though they were true they were also crude and harsh, in his mind not really what happened, but… he couldn’t help being a little angry and hurt.

How could Samuel kiss him like he had, hold him, make love to him, tell him he loved him… and now…?

* * *

Sam jerked at the shock of those words, feeling much like something sucked out all the air in his lungs. As he searched Dean’s face and saw no trace of a joke, understanding dawned. “You... you were there? In my dream?” The revelation stilled his efforts at getting away.

He was being pulled in, dragged into that fathomless green gaze... it was dizzying and made him feel so out of control, so different from his usual self assured self. “I pulled you in?” Biting on his lower lip, he frowned, kicking himself for his weakness, and for his inabilities.

Cupping the side of Dean’s face, he spoke in low earnest tones. “You were so angry at me last night. I thought... I thought I could do it, keep out of your head. I didn’t mean to... after that, I would never have dragged you into my mind again on purpose.” He swallowed, seeing every word he said was hurting Dean. “If I were human... if I were, Dean... nothing on earth would stop me from trying to make that dream come true. It’s all I can give you. You deserve so much more.”

He brushed his closed mouth over Dean’s but burned with the fires of the night before. “Please don’t hurt. Please don’t be sad. I can’t stand knowing I do this to you.” Worse yet, Samuel had no clue how he was going to stop this from spiraling out of control when he couldn’t do something simple like guarding his mind.

* * *

Samuel’s words made a cold feeling begin to spread in the pit of his stomach. Sam hadn’t known… he was there? He thought it was just a dream… _just_ a dream… Did that make any difference? Dean wanted to believe it didn’t. Samuel had still made love to him, whether he knew it was _really_ him or not, it shouldn’t matter, but somehow it did.

And it hurt. It hurt so much he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t hide it from his face. He couldn’t hide it from his eyes that Sam was looking deep into, but now Dean felt like turning away.

He had asked Samuel not to regret what had happened. Now the angel was apologizing for ‘pulling him in’, and Dean knew… he just knew… If Samuel had known it was really him in the dream, he wouldn’t have touched him. Wouldn’t have kissed him. Wouldn’t have told him he loved him…

He’d only said those things because in his mind it wasn’t him…

If he were human…

Dean closed his eyes when the angel brushed their lips together. A sob tried to work its way up from his throat but he swallowed it down. When they parted and he opened his eyes again his eyelashes were wet, but his expression had switched once again from pain to determination. His hands went around to the back of the angel’s neck, dragging Sam’s lips to his again for a kiss that was anything but chaste. Refusing to let Sam pull away till they were both breathless.

“I was angry last night because what you were showing me… it wasn’t you.” Dean finally said, meeting Samuel’s eyes, refusing to look away. Willing him to understand. “I’ll never want anyone but you… You told me you loved me. You made love to me. You made me believe… Was that all a lie?”

* * *

Samuel was breathless from the kiss he hadn’t been able to pull away from. His mouth still burned, still yearned for more. Yearned to pull him up tight, to bring his mouth down… to kiss him… to show him again how he affected him. Centuries long training and dogma tugged him in the other direction. Temptation. Lust. Disobedience. Sin. Dear God, he ached from fighting it.

And staring into Dean’s face, seeing the crystals of moisture in his lashes, hearing the anguish in his voice as he explained himself and asked his question, the Angel knew that this one boy… man, could bring him to his knees without even trying.

The toast started burning. Sam didn't try to pull away, knowing Dean wouldn’t let him go until he had his answer. His throat convulsed. He should tell him _a truth_ … that he needed to find love elsewhere.

“I don’t lie,” he eventually answered, running his thumbs over the corners of Dean’s wet lashes. “Not in dreams. Not ever.” He saw hope light up those fathomless green eyes and felt his heart clench. “Listen to the _whole_ truth Dean. It doesn’t matter how I feel, it doesn’t matter what I want, we can’t be together.”

He turned away. “Breakfast is burning,” he started to pull away.

* * *

It really was a strange feeling, dizzying even. Going from feeling such hope, to such despair. Such intense joy to bitter disappointment. Such intense love to anger, not only directed at Samuel, but everything. All with only a few words in the span of a few seconds.

So this is what it felt like to love someone… Dean hated it.

When the angel pulled away from him this time the young man didn’t try to stop him. Didn’t try to hold onto him or cling to him begging him to change his mind. Not this time, because he realized suddenly it didn’t matter.

Samuel loved him, wanted him, he admitted it, but it didn’t make a difference. It didn’t matter what he felt, didn’t matter how Dean felt about him, Samuel wasn’t going to break the ‘rules’ to be with him. The _rules_. Rules that sounded stupid even to Dean and fine maybe he was naïve about a lot but not even Samuel could explain to him _why_ they were rules.

For perhaps the first time Dean truly regretted that Samuel had dragged him out of hell. Despite the angel’s previous ‘reassurances’ the young man was beginning to believe that he was just going to end up back there anyway once he died. Considering, after all, that he tempted an _angel_ to sin and Dean didn’t even care. He _wanted_ Sam to, damn it. He wanted him… damn the consequences… and damn him too he supposed. If he was just going to be damned anyway, he wished it could be for loving Samuel…

“I would burn for you.” He admitted without shame, before turning and walking out of the kitchen without waiting to see if or how Samuel would respond. Walking back to his room, shutting and locking the door, even though he knew it wouldn’t keep Samuel out if the angel wanted in. Didn’t matter. It didn’t need to keep him out for very long.

Dean finished dressing quickly, catching sight of himself in the mirror and he glared at it hard. Watching it shatter into a million pieces without him touching it.

* * *

I would burn for you. I would burn for you. I would burn for you.

The words echoed in Sam’s head, whipping up the maelstrom of emotions that the Angel was already having difficulty controlling. Sexy, sinful words. Seductive. Sad and angry. I would burn for you.

A Hollywood produce would kill for those lines. Five little words that could mean so much… that could hurt so much.

As he salvaged breakfast, Sam resisted the urge to chase Dean. What could he do or say that would make the youth feel better? Only time would heal Dean’s wounds. That wasn’t a lie, it was one of the blessings bestowed upon humans. They loved hard, but they could move on, their hearts would heal with time. But if he tried to tell Dean that again, he was sure Dean would throw it back in his teeth.

He started to take the plates to the dinner table when he heard the sound of shattering glass. “Dean?!” The plates were dumped on the table and Sam was at Dean’s door, trying to open it. “Are you alright, what happened? Dean? Dean!” His heart started to pound. _Open this door or I’ll open it._ At least he could sense him in the room.

* * *

Dean wasn’t surprised when he heard Samuel’s worried voice at his door a few seconds after the mirror broke. Maybe it should have scared him what he had just done… but it was not much different than anything else he could do. He’d always known he was a freak. What was one more thing?

For some reason hearing that concern, that worry, he heard in the angel’s voice only hurt him more. The reminder that Samuel really did care made the young man more sad and angry at the same time. Though he had to wonder if he was really angry at Samuel, or more angry at himself. After all, the angel had told him over and over that they were never going to be together. That hadn’t really changed despite how Dean had pushed. Even last night… Samuel hadn’t known it was really him.

Though he had asked the angel not to regret it, Samuel never really promised him anything. It didn’t really matter, he supposed.

He ignored the angel’s verbal questions as well as his mental demand. Finished tying his up his boots, and stood up from the bed. His boots crunching the broken glass beneath his feet as he went over to the window and opened it.

_Don’t come after me._ He sent before shutting Samuel out of his mind as he quickly climbed out onto the fire escape and down the ladder.

As soon as his feet hit the pavement he started running. It didn’t matter where, he felt he just needed to get away. Just like the last time. But unlike the last time he’d run away, Dean knew he didn’t just need time alone or to think. He wasn’t coming back again.

Being near Samuel, wanting him so much and not being able to have him, simply hurt too much. In the end this was probably better… for both of them.

* * *

Samuel’s mind reeled at the heated mental demand followed by the icy cold emptiness when Dean withdrew from his mind and shut him out. Completely.

Palm against the door, a cool breeze at his back, Sam pushed his way inside. Shards of broken mirror cut deep into his bare feet, but he barely glanced down at the pain. _Dean!_ In a few strides, he’d left a streak of scarlet on the ground and was out the window, wings spread out as he searched, and found his ward.

Flying to a point ahead of him, he dropped down and started talking as Dean approached. “Stop, please Dean. You’re not thinking—“ Angry green eyes stared at him, as the youth walked right by.

He flew past Dean again, then stood directly in his way. “Take your phone. Dean.” This time when Dean passed him, Samuel leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Free will was a bitch.

Back in his apartment, as he pulled the last pieces of mirror out of his skin, Sam realized they’d both been walking on broken glass and it had only been a matter of time when things would come to a head. He just hoped Dean would cool off before he got into trouble. Cold fear made his stomach clench. Maybe he shouldn’t have protected him from the knowledge of what happened at the bar. Now he’d walked away just as naïve as he’d been on that night.

*  
 _I won’t come after you if you don’t want me, just let me know you’re safe._ All day long, Sam got silence in response to his pleas. He was so distracted, he gave up on his errands and went home at noon.

He checked with Bobby and several other places where he thought Dean might have gone, but was told no one had seen him. By evening, he hadn’t eaten or drank a thing, and was sitting looking out the window, motionless except for the air crackling and agitating around him.


	7. Chapter 7

  
The fluorescent light flickered overhead, making everything look pale and sickly in the small room, especially his flesh as he stared into the cracked mirror above the sink. His hands braced on the cold dirty porcelain as he was rocked forward by the hard thrusts of the man behind him. Hard hands on his hips gripping tightly, pulling him back roughly. The man's breath stinking of cigarettes and cheep beer as he grunted in his ear.    


  
Dean took the roughness without complaint. The liquor he'd drank helping to dull the worst of the pain. It actually wasn't all that bad. Whenever the man accidentally brushed that place inside of him it actually didn't feel bad at all. Still, it was nothing like when Samuel had… and that's what he wanted. 

The man finished in him soon enough, groaning obscene dirty things as he came. Leaving Dean unsatisfied, but the young man didn't really care about that. He turned around, letting the man give him a sloppy kiss before taking the cash he'd been promised. After the guy left Dean stayed in the bathroom for a little while longer to clean himself up and pull up his jeans before returning to the main smoke filled bar. Sitting back down at the bar, and waiting. 

Waiting for the next man to come and try to pick him up. Maybe even offer to take him home so Dean would have someplace to sleep tonight. With a face, and an ass, like his he knew he wouldn't have to wait too long.

If nothing else, these last three weeks since he'd left Samuel's apartment had been a learning experience and the angel was right about one thing. He was a fast learner.

The first night on his own he spent wandering aimlessly through the streets all night, sometime after two in the morning when Dean had been standing on a street corner, trying to figure out what he was going to do, where he was going to go, that someone stopped their car and asked him how much he cost. Dean was confused a little at first, but he'd watched enough racy television lately to realize quickly that the man thought he was a prostitute. He was about to correct the man on his 'assumption' before the guy made an offer of his own and being as cold and tired and hungry as he was after only a second's hesitation Dean accepted it.

It hadn't been as bad as he'd thought it would be. The guy took him back to his place. Offering him something to 'help him relax', and he hadn't been all that rough either. Letting him stay the night, though he'd fucked him again in the morning he also let him have a bowl of cereal before kicking him out. The first meal Dean had in over a day. 

He'd been able to use the cash the man had given him to feed him the next day. The next night, with a sense of déjà vu he'd spent it at a bar rather than just walking the streets. It was definitely a sleazy place and Dean wondered if he had subconsciously chosen that place on purpose because there was no end to the guys offering to buy him drinks, or offering him cash for a quick blowjob or fuck in the back. Dean had made enough that night to rent himself a motel room to sleep in. 

He'd quickly fallen into a routine. Sometimes varying the bars he went to, but this a good place to pick up a trick. He was already tipsy from liquor and still a little bit high from the cocaine that one of the guys had shared with him earlier. Leaving his mind feeling pleasantly numb, though he always made sure to keep his mind closed. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not but he swore he could still feel Samuel sometimes. Like he was 'pressing' against the barrier Dean had thrown up between them and so he always checked to make sure it hadn't slipped. 

The last thing he wanted was for Samuel to come looking for him. Samuel didn't really want him anyway. The angel wanted him to go be with other people, humans? Sam wanted him to be 'independent'? So he could survive on his own? Well, that's what he was doing. 

So much for 'chocolate' being better. Dean chuckled a little to himself as he tossed back another shot someone had just bought him. The man already had his hand on his ass and Dean didn't bother to push it off. Giving the guy a lustful look. The same look that had tempted even an angel, and it worked every time.    


* * *

The days were bad. The nights were worse.

Samuel was raw and exhausted from throwing himself up against Dean's mental barriers. Sometimes, sometimes they slipped just a little, and it never failed to horrify he angel.

Cheap liquor and cigarettes. He didn't taste like innocence anymore. Samuel wept, because he knew what it meant. He hadn't been there, but he knew.

Pressure and pain. It wasn't Rick. It was Dean... he let it happen. Sam's tears struck the sidewalk, splattering the way their lives had been.

His mouth was full. He was choking. But what stuck Sam the most was that he was silent, he wasn't asking for more, he wasn't trying to talk... his mind was cold and silent, empty of joy. Standing on the roof, Sam threw his head back and shouted... shouted for it to stop. This time, the skies opened up and cried for him.

*

It was late for company. Sam padded to the door and opened it. "I didn't order dessert," he said, recognizing one of the waiters from the restaurant downstairs.

"Hi Sam. Daryl called, he said to get you. That ah, he saw your friend at Lucky's, it's a bar at—"

Slamming the door shut behind him, Sam ran down the stairs. By the time he reached street level, he had shoes on.

*

Sam at the bar with his back to the back room. The seat next to him was empty. Each person who was initially drawn to him had only to look into his eyes, and they found themselves backing away.

He stirred the toothpick pierced olive around in his martini glass, nostrils flaring. 'Buck' was getting some, they'd said. And he knew who was giving up his 'sweet little ass.' They were older, rough looking and vulgar as they gave blow by blows of how the kid was probably taking it up the ass right now.

A gust of wind had the patrons startled and looking around. Samuel tightened his fingers around the glass. Tonight time wasn't passing in the blink of an eye.

The door opened. He imagined the sound of a zipper and harsh laughter. Then Buck rejoined his friends and Sam tuned him out. Angels should not strike out in anger or revenge.

Another ten minutes passed. He sensed Dean come up to the bar, and had his head turned away until he sat on the empty seat next to him. "How much?" He turned to lock gazes with green eyes that had put him through hell. "Fifty. One hundred? How much to come home with me?" He lifted his chin and looked straight through to his soul. "Two hundred?" There was nothing soft or gentle about him now.

* * *

Dean winced a little as he pulled his jeans back up after his latest 'customer'. The guy had been pretty rough with him, and the young man was grateful that he wasn't his first of the night. That he'd already been opened up by others, or the guy might have actually torn him.

Still the young man waited a little while before returning to the bar. Long enough that he was sure he could walk without a limp. He'd definitely have to have a few drinks, and wait a little while before he accepted another 'offer' after that. Maybe even find someone who had some 'stuff' to take the edge off if he wanted to make any more cash tonight.

He probably should just leave and go get a room somewhere, he'd made enough tonight, but he didn't really want to waste money to rent a room if he could find someone willing to take him home. So he went back to the bar instead, sitting down on one of the empty stools with another wince. This time trying to wave down the bartender to order himself a drink.

_How much?_ It was a phrase he'd heard often enough, but Dean still wasn't drunk or high enough not to recognize the voice even before he turned his head to look directly into Samuel's eyes.

He felt a little like he'd been punched in the stomach as they stared at each other. Everything he'd been trying not to feel for the past few weeks hitting him all at once. Pain. Disappointment. Longing. Shame. Guilt… and a slew of other emotions he couldn't begin to name.

Dean could only stare with at the angel for a few moments until Sam's words finally registered and he blinked in disbelief before his eyes finally narrowed.

"You can't afford me." Dean answered bitterly before he stood up and started to walk out of the bar.

* * *

In a few long strides, Samuel caught up to him right outside the door and closed his hand around Dean’s arm in an iron grip. “You only sell yourself to people who will use you and throw you away without another thought? Why? To get back at me? Fine, mission accomplished. Congratulations, you win.”

Sam felt his eyes sting, but didn’t care. He didn’t hide from the truth, and the truth was Dean had hurt him. He’d felt sorry for many humans. He’d felt their pain. He’d cried for them. Dean made him cry for himself.

“You wanted a reason. Maybe this is the reason.” Samuel had been looking for the truth behind the rules, but they were still shrouded in mystery. “Teachers are forbidden from having relationships with their students. Psychiatrists with their patients. There are some relationship where it’s sure to hurt one of the two people. You and I...” he gave a bitter laugh, “look how it fucked you up... we just proved the rule, you and I.”

And still he was rebellious, Sam could see it in his eyes. Dean should be responding to his calming touch, should be accepting his suggestions. So much for humans being in awe of angels.

Pulling himself up to his full height, he towered over Dean. “I didn’t save you from hell so you’d find your own way back there.” He tightened his grip. “Come home with me. If you don’t want it to be me, then I’ll have Michael take over tomorrow, take care of you. You can hate me just as much without doing... this, without hurting yourself.”

Once, he always had the right words to get through to Dean. Now... now he was grasping and felt useless. A lump rose in his throat. “Bobby keeps asking about you. Everyone misses you.” _I miss you._  


* * *

Dean glared hot daggers at the angel when Sam caught him outside. Trying to twist his arm out of the angel's tight grip, but Samuel simply wasn't releasing him. Even as Dean sneered at the angel's 'reasons' behind the 'rules'.

Yeah, maybe he was fucked up. But Samuel seemed to forget he had been fucked up before too. He'd been fucked up his whole life. The time he'd been able to live with Samuel had been like a brief flicker of light in his world where everything was dark. No matter how painful some of those moments had been, the other moments he knew he'd still treasure.

For a little while, Samuel had made him feel genuinely happy. Made him feel like he wanted to live... But that was over now. He couldn't come 'home'. It would only start all over again, torturing them both, and Dean couldn't go through it again. He just couldn't.

Samuel definitely got one thing wrong though. He didn't hate Samuel. He hated himself.

Finally the young man managed to wrench his arm out of Samuel's tight grip. Taking a few steps back before the angel could try to grab him again.

"I told you. I didn't want anyone else but you. But since you don't want me..." Dean smirked and held his arms out. "There are plenty who do."

He knew his words were cruel. Hurtful. They were meant to be. If he had to hurt the angel so that Samuel would leave him alone, then that's what he would do. He didn't need Samuel... and Samuel definitely didn't need him in his life screwing everything up. He would take care of himself from now on.

"I'm not hurting myself. Its just sex. I even 'enjoy' it sometimes. Just like you said I would, so I don't need your help, or anyone else's. I'm going to hell anyway, I might as well enjoy the ride. So just leave me alone." He said bitterly before he turned and started to walk away again.

* * *

  
_And you’re taking me with you._. Sam stood there, watching, hoping for what never came. Dean was gone.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Sam headed home, shoulders slightly hunched. His heart was pulverized by a ‘mere human’, and he was smiling just a little at that. At that, and all the memories he chose to think about. The irreverent and relentless teasing, something he’d never experienced at the hands of a human. The little plays on words and innuendo that sometimes had Sam stuttering and wondering which of them had been the one sheltered from the world. The way Dean insisted on tasting his dessert, and then practically making love to it before returning the spoon. The music he chose and blared as if they were deaf.

So many good moments. Until now, more good than bad.

Let him go. Maybe he’ll find his way back.

Let him at least find his way, Sam prayed.

*

Leaving the front door unlocked, he walked in the darkness straight to his room. No one whispered goodnight to him, as his head touched the pillow. He was well and truly alone. Again. Only now, he knew the difference.

* * *

As Dean walked he stared at the ground, hardly looking up even when he came to an intersection to make sure it was clear of traffic before he crossed. The cool night air dried the tears on his face, but there were always more ready to wet them again. Damn Samuel for finding him tonight. He didn’t know how the angel had done it, but Dean was going to make sure it didn’t happen again. Not that he thought it really would. Samuel had let him walk away after all, he doubted the angel was going to come looking for him again.

The young man’s heart clenched a little at that thought before he pushed the feeling away. Reminding himself that this really was for the best. For both of them. Samuel would forget about him soon enough. Find someone else to help. Dean would figure out how to survive on his own, and if he didn’t... what did it really matter anyway?

He knew he should probably try to find some place to sleep tonight. It was late, but he wasn’t exactly tired. He felt sick, mind, body, and soul so it wouldn’t do any good to try to rest, he wouldn’t get any anyway, so why waste the money.

So he just kept walking. Trying not to think. An impossible task, but he tried anyway. The effort making his head ache. Just an annoying throbbing at first, like when he was suffering from a mild hangover, but steadily growing worse. His stomach twisted and he groaned as he stumbled. Reaching out blindly to a brick wall for support. He’d broken out in a cold sweat and he was shaking.

What the hell...

The pain in his head grew worse and Dean doubled over. Almost collapsing. There was no one on the street to see him. Not in this part of town anyway, not right now. At least, so Dean thought, but when he managed to lift his head, his vision going double for a few seconds, he saw a man standing on the street across from him staring at him. Just staring at him.

Suddenly Dean knew. He just knew. He’d had these kinds of ‘attacks’ before, though it had been years since his last one.

“Oh god...”

The ‘man’ started across the street slowly. Approaching him. Dean couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t need to. He knew what he was. He wanted to run but every step the man took towards him the pain in his head grew worse. His shaking grew worse. The cold sick feeling he felt grew worse and it felt like a bitter cold was wrapping around him. Choking him.

He dropped to his knees. The ‘man’ stood over him and Dean looked up into its rotting face. The glowing red eyes staring at him in a strange kind of interest before its blacked mouth pulled back into a vicious smile. The demon reached for him. Touched him, and Dean heard himself scream in pain as his body convulsed.

* * *

The soul shattering scream jerked Samuel out of the disturbed state of his sleep. Disoriented for a moment, he thought it was a nightmare. Then it slammed into him full force, it was not his nightmare, not even Dean's nightmare... it was the truth, and it was happening now.

_Dean, I'm here...._ He pushed his way deeper into Dean's mind, much like Dean had to his during the battle. Seeing the demon, he gave a mental shout. _Don't let it touch you, move away... move Dean._

Tendrils of smoke rose from his arm, leaving the smell of burnt flesh in the room. Dammit... dammit he'd let the demon touch him. _Pull away, I'm coming... get away from it._ But Sam knew by now, it was too late to get away from that thing... once it touched you, it started to suck your essence into hell.

_Dean, listen. I'm coming, but you have to start the exorcism. You HAVE to._ Sam tried to brush his mind, tried to take the pain, as much of it as could be transferred. _Look at it, in the eyes. Don't fear it... stare at it. Repeat these words... do it!_

_Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei_

As Sam took to the air and flew to the area of the bar, he searched the streets, knowing Dean was in the area, but unwilling to make him look away from the demon even for one second. _in nominee Dei,_ he repeated as Dean stuttered over the words. _Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu. Christi Filii ejus, Domini et Judicis nostri, et in virtute Spiritus._

Fear ate at him. He wasn't sure whether it was Dean's or his own, probably a mixture of both. _You're strong... you see him, right there you have an advantage_.

Where ... where... then he saw black smoke rising, and catapulted across buildings until he found them. Dropping down, he roughly shoved Dean so hard, the boy sailed back through the air, leaving just the angel facing the demon.

Wings spread wide, eyes blacker than coal, Sam reached out and grasped the demon's throat in his hands. It scratched him, his face, his throat... it burned him, the smell of sulfer and acid dripping from it. Without acknowledging any pain, Sam relentlessly squeezed and continued the ritual.

" _Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc plasmate Dei, quod Dominus noster ad templum sanctum suum vocare dignatus est, ut fiat templum Dei vivi, et Spiritus Sanctus habitet in eo. Per eumdem Christum Dominum nostrum, qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos, et saeculum per ignem._ "

The demon slid to the ground, and appeared to drain through the cracks in the concrete and disappeared.

In a few strides, Samuel was at Dean's side, pulling him up. His eyes were still dark, his hair being whipped by wind. The hard edge that showed when he engaged evil was no longer masked. His nostrils flared as he fought against what he wanted to do, to do what needed to be done. Last time he'd rescued Dean, he'd made a mistake. It wasn't one he intended to repeat.

"That is what awaits you in hell. That and a hundred thousand more of them. Every day, day after day, year upon year, for centuries and tens of thousands of centuries, THAT is your destiny." The wind died down, and he blinked away the inky darkness of his eyes. "Take my hand. Meet me half way, and we can change that."

A new fear tore at him. "If you want me to beg. If you want me to kneel, I will," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "Help me find your price."

* * *

The pain was like nothing he’d ever experienced. The smell of his own burning flesh where the demon’s fingers were wrapped tightly around his arm made his stomach churn and he wasn’t sure that he didn’t vomit because of it. But it was more than just the blistering burning of his skin and muscles. More than just the agony inside his head like his skull was being ripped apart. It slid down deep inside of him, past his flesh and bones, down to his very soul and he could feel that burning too. He could feel his life literally being sucked out of him and it was agony.

He just wanted it to stop. Just wanted it to end, and he didn’t even care how.

At first he couldn’t even hear the angel’s voice in his head over his own screams. Though he could hear the demon laughing. A twisted, evil sound that made him shudder. He could feel warm blood dripping from his nose, from his ears… perhaps the only reason he did feel it was because it was such a sharp contrast to the cold of his skin, and he realized he was dying. He remembered the feeling all too well. It hadn’t been all that long since the last time, after all…

Dean remembered his words to Samuel, barely an hour ago. I’m going to hell anyway… he just hadn’t realized it would be so soon…

_I’m coming…_ The words, when he finally did hear them were so shocking they were probably the only thing that kept him from passing out from the pain. Samuel… _Get away from it!_ But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely think.

A choked sob worked its way out of his throat and Dean tasted blood in his mouth. His vision started darkening. At least… at least he wouldn’t be alone this time. At least he’d known what it was like to be happy, for a little while, before he ruined everything.

I’m sorry… he wanted to say, but he couldn’t manage even that. He could only hear what Samuel was saying to him, barely, he couldn’t respond. He heard Samuel ordering him to look at the demon. Telling him to… exorcism…? Like Sam had done? But he couldn’t… how could he possibly? Repeat the words… Samuel might as well have told him to part the red sea. But as he grew even colder inside his fear grew and he tried. He forced his head up to look at the horrifying face of the demon, even as his vision swam and he tried to take in a breath, so he could speak. He didn’t think he’d ever done anything so difficult in his whole life.

“Ex…orcizo… te” At first the words came out in barely a shaking whisper. But the demon’s reaction was immediate. It was pissed. Its hand tightened on him and Dean swore he could feel its claws scraping against his bones, the pain increased if it was possible, choking off his next words. But when the angel repeated them he forced them out of his lips in a moan of agony.

He kept speaking, repeating Samuel’s words, because he could do nothing else. If he was going to die, at least he’d die fighting. The hard shove when it came took him completely by surprise, but by that point he didn’t have the capacity to understand what it meant or much less to feel relief that Samuel was there.

The young man landed in a crumbled heap and didn’t move except to curl in on himself protectively. Moaning softly in pain as his body trembled in shock from all it had been put through. He didn’t look up to see what was happening around him. Barely even heard the demon’s angry hisses and curses or Samuel’s words finishing the exorcism he’d started. Even once the demon was gone the pain was slow to recede. The cold didn’t want to leave him.

When Samuel lifted him up he moaned softly, though he managed to force his eyes open even though they were glazed and unfocused. The angel’s angry words made a different kind of tremor pass through him. A different kind of fear. He swallowed hard. Tried to speak, but couldn’t manage it. At least not with his voice.

_Change to what? What do I have here? The only thing I ever wanted… I can’t have…_ He barely managed, the effort making his head hurt all the worse and a small whimper escaped his throat as a tear slid down his cheek. He didn’t hear if Samuel answered his question however, because he finally lost his battle with unconsciousness.

* * *

Samuel caught him in his arms, and climbed up into the sky. He sensed defeat, where there should be triumph.

*

He sat in a chair next to Dean’s bed, elbows braced against his knees, his chin resting on the back of his clasped hands. He’d taken care of Dean’s scrapes and cuts, and his burn. Taken away the pain in every place but one. Now he waited to chase away the nightmares and make sure Dean had a full night’s rest.

It used to smell like soap and Dean’s unique scene in here. Sam always liked breathing it in as he changed the sheets, or put things away for him. Now Dean’s scent was buried under the stink of sweat and sex and stale cigarettes. Samuel kept his breaths shallow.

Occasionally, he glanced at Dean’s face, visible under the moonlight. Even in sleep, gone was the softness. A man had replaced the boy who had stolen his heart and made him see the world in a new light. His throat closed up on him.

He ached to touch the boy’s face and make him smile. Those days were gone.

* * *

Dean slept through the night. Though his dreams were not peaceful, filled with memories he'd much rather forget, they didn't wake him in fear like they normally did. Maybe he was simply too exhausted, or maybe the weeks he'd spent away from Samuel had hardened him even more than he realized.

Whatever it was, the young man didn't open his eyes till nearly noon. Blinking against the bright sunlight coming in through the windows. Turning his face away from it with a hiss. His head was throbbing with an incredible headache, his stomach twisting with nausea, but over the last few weeks he'd almost grown used to that feeling, so it didn't come as much of a surprise.

The fact that he woke up in 'his' room, in Samuel's apartment didn't come as any surprise to the young man either. He was remembering the events of last night with remarkable clarity. All of them. From the men he'd let fuck him, to when Sam had found him the first time. The angry words they'd exchanged and Dean walking away from the angel. The demon. The pain. Samuel saving him… again…

He also wasn't surprise when his eyes finally adjusted to the light and he took his first good look around what used to be his room that he was alone. Though maybe what did surprise him was he didn't feel anything by that. It was just another observation. Like he observed that the glass from the broken mirror had been cleaned up, or that the burn on his arm had been bandaged.

Dean pushed aside the blanket and sheet covering him and sat up. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but he was still dressed in the jeans he'd been wearing for the last week or so. He probably should have found it funny that Samuel didn't even trust him while he was unconscious to strip him naked. But then again, he wasn't surprised.

He was indifferent.

He checked the mental barriers he must have instinctively put up at some point. After weeks of keeping them up it was almost second nature now. Probably a good thing. Maybe he would take a shower and pack up some clothes to take with him before he left. Not like Samuel was going to wear them.

* * *

Sam had made Dean one of those fiendish peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches that he seemed to favor, and left it on a plate on the coffee table. Doing his best to keep his mind busy since he’d worried enough all night long, Sam sat on the couch working on his lap top.

Eventually, he hears the bedroom door open and footsteps approached. If he’d thought Dean would come talk to him, he was wrong. Instead, he was making a bee line for the restroom.

“Dean.”

Though he stopped, he didn’t even turn around.

Samuel pursed his lips and got up to walk to him. He put one hand on Dean’s shoulder, trying to but failing to will him into looking at him. He sighed at his failure. Any other human would have been manipulated into complying.

“A few things.” Still no eye contact. This time Sam was the one who looked down. “Alright, you don’t have to talk to me. Everything I say seems to get you angry anyway,” his voice was full of sorrow. “There’s a sandwich over there, in case you want to eat. Bobby called and… I don’t know, he said something about an axel on some car you worked on, and that you’d forgotten to pick up your check.” He wet his lips. “That’s it, other than… my door is always open to you. Always.”

* * *

When he couldn't ignore his physical needs anymore Dean finally stood up stiffly, his body moving slow and painfully for a variety of reasons, and made his way as quickly as he was able to the bathroom. He barely looked up as he opened his door, staring at the hallway rug rather than risk accidentally meeting Samuel's eyes since he didn't know where the angel was.

He probably shouldn't have been surprised when he heard his name from the direction of the living room before he could make it into the bathroom. He probably should have just kept moving, pretending he didn't hear Sam at all, but instead he stopped for reasons he couldn't really explain to himself right now.

He couldn't stop his muscles from tensing however when he felt Samuel's hand come to rest on his bare shoulder. Once the touch would have comforted him and he would have been leaning into it for more. Now he only stood there stiffly, his throat closing with emotion and his eyes stinging with unshed tears.

Sandwich… Dean almost wanted to laugh. Like he could even think of food at the moment without feeling like he was going to vomit.

The mention of Bobby came as a bit of a surprise. Mostly because he wasn't sure why the older man would be calling for him. He remembered Samuel saying something about Bobby asking about him, but he didn't know why. The man had only met him that once. Why would he care if he picked up his 'check' or not?

That's it… Dean nodded stiffly and stepped away from the angel. Shutting the bathroom door behind him.

He took a relatively quick shower. Just long enough to wash the stink off his flesh. He brushed his teeth afterwards and shaved. Packing all his supplies into the little shaving bag and taking it with him when he left the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Shutting his bedroom door once more while he dressed. Then began packing what clothes he could fit into a gym bag he couldn't even remember Samuel buying for him but they'd shopped for so much crap for him that wasn't much of a surprise.

His hands faltered a few times when he remembered how good Samuel had been to him. The angel had saved him, how many times? He should be grateful. He probably should be kneeling and kissing Sam's feet for all the angel had done for him, instead he could only selfishly focus on the one thing that Samuel hadn't given him.

_It doesn't matter how I feel, it doesn't matter what I want, we can't be together…_ Those same words echoed over and over in his head just as they had for the last several weeks. When he'd first decided to get into the car and sell his body for the first time. Every time after. When he tried to drink the pain and disappointment away, to forget about Samuel and punish himself at the same time for everything he was doing.

These last few weeks had shown him what he was really like and how he had only caused Samuel one trouble after another. Even if he wanted to stay, there was no way things would ever go back to the way they were. He simply couldn't forget the way Samuel had loved him, for one night, and only as a dream… Something he would never have again, and seeing the angel every day and knowing he'd never be able to have him… it would be torture. Worse than any he had put himself through the last few days.

Before he'd left in a childish display of rebellious anger. Now he was leaving for the same, and different reasons. Maybe Samuel was right about the 'rules' after all, Dean thought bitterly as he zipped up his bag and hoisted it on his shoulder.

Dean kept his eyes on the floor again as he opened the door to his room and walked out. Deciding to use the front door this time. He paused for only a second after opening it, wanting to say… something… he wasn't sure. Maybe thank Sam. Maybe apologize. But his voice failed him so he simply walked out. Shutting the door quietly behind him.

* * *

He was going to run. Sam’s gut told him that even as Dean woodenly walked into the bathroom and shut the door. He was going to leave. He preferred to live on the streets, to hurt himself, to be a slave to other people’s lust and money... than to face me every day. What did that tell Samuel about how much he hurt Dean?

Sitting heavily down on the sofa, he looked at his hands in his lap and went over the past. Again. He’d tried his best, he really had tried. But it hadn’t been good enough, not to save Dean.

Maybe he should have passed him to Michael when he realized their mental connection was uncontrollable, and that other feelings were coming into play. It was a wonderful feeling... to touch someone from far, to be able to express yourself in a new medium, to be able to show rather than tell. And to feel... to feel them, and what they felt.

He licked his lips. Once he’d realized both of their feelings went far beyond friendship, he should have maybe done something about it. But the truth was, it had been like a runaway train... he couldn’t... didn’t want to...

His head jerked up when the door opened, and he watched Dean take his shaving kit with him to the bedroom. _Won’t you talk to me?_

So stubborn. So strong. A sigh left Samuel. He tried to prepare, to be ready.

But he wasn’t.

Not when he saw Dean with his bag over his shoulder, and his eyes cast down like he couldn’t stand to look at him. Not when he paused at the door, and Sam thought for one split second, maybe... maybe he’d say something. And not when the door closed behind him, with finality.

_Don’t leave me._

Sam took another deep breath and prepared to be plunged back into the hell of wondering where Dean was, whether he was alright, and worse... getting glimpses of those times when he was not alright.

He felt something on the back of his hand, looked down and watched with despair as the tear drop rolled off and disappeared into the couch.

* * *

It was harder this time. So much harder. Every step he took away from the apartment. Down the stairs. Outside. Felt like a cold vice was slowly squeezing his heart inside of his chest. His feet almost didn't want to move, but he forced them to. His eyes cast down to the pavement to resist the impulse to look up towards the windows. Perhaps hoping for one last glimpse of Samuel before he never saw him again.

Dean laughed bitterly to himself. He'd tried so hard to avoid looking at the angel as he left, now what he wouldn't give for just one last look at him. One last touch. One last hug. One last kiss… The vice squeezed his heart just a little tighter and he closed his eyes. Feeling the slide of tears down his cheeks but he didn't bother to wipe them away.

He didn't hear his name being called. Didn't even realized he'd stopped walking. Just standing there on the sidewalk, people pushing past him impatiently. He didn't open his eyes or look up, until he felt a hand touch his arm. Unknowingly touching the burn there concealed under his shirt and making the young man jerk away with a hiss of pain.

His head snapping up and eyes locking with two of the waiters Dean had come to know who worked at the restaurant outside Samuel's apartment that he'd unknowingly stopped in front of in his misery. The young man swallowed hard and quickly wiped at his face, erasing the signs of his crying with a slight flush of embarrassment.

* * *

Sarah stopped and looked down. She hadn't expected tears, and that made it awkward. He probably wouldn't like being caught crying.

"Hey, Dean," Daryl pulled his arm away, a little surprised by Dean's rough gesture, but there was pain etched in his face… the same expression Sam had been wearing for weeks. "I'm glad you're okay. We were all worried about you, especially Sam."

Sarah's gaze shifted to Dean and then slid over his bag. "You're not leaving him again." Okay, maybe a few weeks ago, she'd have whooped for joy, but not once she saw how it had affected Sam. "In all the years I've seen him, I've never seen him depressed."

"Look sweetie, why don't you come on in and have a coffee? I'll put it on his tab, that way, if you're pissed at him, you can think of it as revenge," Daryl grinned. "Come on, what's the worst that can happen, you lose fifteen minutes."

"And gain a date," Sarah looked at Daryl.

"Girl, you're so suspicious."

* * *

Dean was unsure what to say to the concern displayed by Sam’s friends. Couldn’t understand why they would be worried about _him_ at all, however hearing them say how Sam had been worried made his throat tighten a little more.

His gaze shifted down to the bag at his side, following the gaze of the woman and he had absolutely no words for her question that was not really a question. Though he felt his eyes sting just a little bit more and he found himself fighting against more tears.

Never seen him depressed…

The offer to have him come inside had him looking up in surprise. Why were they trying to be nice to him? Especially if they already knew that he had hurt Samuel? He knew he should refuse. Thank them politely, but just keep walking, the longer he stayed the harder it was going to be, yet he found himself rooted in place.

At the asylum he’d always hated the shrinks who tried to make him talk about his ‘feeling’s. Like they cared. They already thought he was crazy, they just wanted to know the level of crazy he was and gauge how to adjust his medication.

But for the first time Dean felt like he really needed to talk to someone, and someone was offering to listen, so he found himself nodding shakily before he realized it. Following them inside, sitting down at one of the tables with the promised coffee that Dean didn’t touch but at least holding it kept his hands from shaking too much as he started to speak.

Giving a very abbreviated and edited version of how he and Sam had been ‘together’ and the fight they’d had the next day. How he’d left. The trouble he’d gotten into. Not going into details however talking about that was somehow easier than talking about Samuel. How he’d been attacked, of course editing out the part that his attacker had been a demon. How Sam had saved him and brought him ‘home’ but there was no way he could stay.

When his voice finally grew quiet he was sure more than fifteen minutes had passed.

* * *

Sarah and Daryl exchanged glances. She let him do the talking for now.

“Okay, let me get this straight… you guys fucked once, and you’re hurt or angry that he won’t commit. That’s basically it? You know he loves you but he won’t say the words. I think Sarah should field this one. Us ‘guys’… one fuck doesn’t mean forever,” he shrugged.

Sarah gave him a wide eyed look, then turned to Dean. “Don’t listen to him, he’s a slut.” She tried to draw on her own experience. “Look, relationships are hard. It’s just that way. A date… a one night stand, that’s easy. You get down to the nitty gritty, you start wanting commitment, and then there’s a bunch of complications.” She took a sip of her coffee. “This guy I fell for, hard? I asked him to marry me, and he was gone like the wind. I didn’t know it, but he built stuff up in his head… about me wanting kids, and … well his mom died when his brother was born.”

Daryl blinked. “What she’s saying is, everyone has fears. We all do. And a lot of people are afraid of commitment, for whatever reason. People don’t always tell you their reasons.”

“Know what the important thing is?” She cocked her head to the side, “people change their minds all the time. There was this guy who thought of me ‘like his sister.’ Then … a little lipstick… a little peekaboo tops, a little swinging of the hips and…”

“A little hip grinding action, and she seduced him. Though, I gotta say, we BOTH tried all of that on Sam. He seems immune.” Daryl chimed in.

“To us. But to you? I think he’s fallen hard, and you just gotta give him that old ‘knockout punch.’”

“Trust me on this, you’ve turned that guy’s life upside down. He’s Mr. Routine, and since you’ve been gone,” Daryl shook his head, “I don’t know … wouldn’t be surprised if he mixed up night and day. So if anyone has a chance at his heart, it’s you. But you know what… with a body like that… I’d give it up with no commitment.” Course Daryl was thinking of the guy he’d seen Dean with at the seedy bar last night.

“He didn’t run.” Sarah looked at Dean. “You might be right about him being afraid of commitment, but he wasn’t like my guy… I think you got a chance. If you want it.”

* * *

Dean made a face as he stared into his coffee when Daryl basically called him a 'girl'. Maybe he had been wrong about talking about this with them. After all, he couldn't exactly give them the _whole_ story.

Yeah, Samuel is an angel, he rescued me from an insane asylum. I was there because I can see demons. And guess what? We can talk to each other with our minds. He didn't _really_ fuck me, it was just a dream. But even though he 'loves' me and 'wants' me we can't be together because it's a sin for angels to fuck… That would be 'fun' and probably win him a one way ticket back to the asylum for sure.

Thinking back on what he had been able to tell them… yeah he supposed he did come off sounding like a girl… a moron… or completely childish. The young man sighed heavily.

"It's not that simple… he told me his reasons. He said it didn't matter what he felt for me, we can't be together. I can't even look at him without wanting to touch or kiss him and…"

It would be hell.

But by his own words he'd told Samuel he'd go to hell for him. Shouldn't he at least be able to go _through_ hell for him? If there was the slightest chance they could come out on the other side…

Dean took a deep breath and slowly lifted his head. Offering Samuel's friends a weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Thanks… for the advice, and the coffee." He said as he stood, taking out a few bills he'd 'earned' last night and then considering. "You wouldn't happen to know his favorite dessert, would you?"

About five minutes later Dean was walking back up the stairs leading to Samuel's apartment, his bag over one shoulder, a takeout container from the restaurant in the other. His steps surprisingly easier than they had been when he'd been walking away, even despite how his stomach was in knots with nervousness.

Outside Samuel's door he stood for another few minutes, trying to shore up his courage, before he lifted his free hand to knock. Thought better of it, and simply opened the door instead.

* * *

He hadn't moved. There hadn't been anything pressing for him to do, nothing that couldn't wait. Stupid thoughts flitted through his mind. Dean never missed breakfast. Today he'd missed two meals, and he couldn't imagine he'd been eating decently. Was it so bad here? With him, that he preferred…

No, he'd seen enough of humanity to know that not every reaction was logical or measured. Besides, Dean had been on drugs most of his life, and maybe he couldn't deal with strong emotions, he didn't have the tools to yet. Maybe…

As the 'maybe's' melded in his mind, he heard the twist of the door knob and his gaze shifted to the door. He really wasn't expecting Dean at all, and was momentarily shocked into silence, though his eyes clung to Dean's. Was he back because he forgot something? Was this round two of 'rip an angel's heart out?'

But when Dean took a couple more hesitant steps into the house, and Sam recognized the box in his hand, he shot up from the sofa. "Dean? Did you change your mind?" His voice was thick with unshed tears, as he crossed the floor and closed his arms around Dean, so tight, he threatened to break bones or maybe an item in Dean's bag. Even as he nuzzled Dean's hair, he wanted to kiss him, he wanted to brush his mind against his, wanted it to be the way it was such a short time ago.

But this was better than nothing. Much better. "It's the peanut butter sandwich, isn't it… irresistible," he said, speaking over the lump in his throat. If he was wrong about this… if Dean hadn't changed his mind, the angel wasn't sure he'd ever recover.

* * *

Dean’s heart was beating so hard he was sure that Samuel could probably hear it. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there frozen in the doorway, his eyes locked with the angel’s. Seconds, minutes, or hours. It all seemed the same. Time measured in the thundering beats of his heart.

Sam didn’t say anything, and though Dean’s throat worked, no sound seemed willing to come out. A new fear began to creep over him. What if he’d already missed his chance? What if Samuel _had_ changed his mind, and now told him to leave? Hadn’t he caused the angel enough trouble?

Doubt and fear began to eat away at the little courage he’d managed to find, but he shored up what was left. Enough to let him take a few hesitant steps into the apartment. Even if the angel did tell him to get out... at least he tried... one last time...

Dean’s heart skipped a beat when Samuel suddenly stood up and he might have even flinched a little, he wasn’t sure. Did you change your mind? The young man opened his mouth. Tried to speak, but again no sound emerged but suddenly it didn’t matter because Samuel was right there. The angel’s warm arms wrapping around him tightly, almost too tightly, but he didn’t care.

His bag fell to the floor, along with the container in his hand, but right now Dean didn’t give a damn as he clung to Sam just as desperately. Holding on just as tight. A harsh, almost wounded, sound rather than a laugh breaking from his throat at the angel’s ‘joke’ as he buried his face against Samuel’s chest.

“Yeah.” He agreed anyway, holding on just a little tighter as he felt some of the cold pain in his chest melt away just a little. “Yeah...”

* * *

"Yeah…" Sam softly echoed, still holding him for a long, long time. He didn't know how it happened, but they were sort of swaying together. "You know… I've never danced before," he said, laughter in his voice.

*

A short while later, they were sitting next to each other on the couch. Dean was nibbling at his sandwhich… or playing with it, while Sam was doing anything but 'playing' with his dessert. Chocolate mousse with dark chocolate shavings was his favorite, and he hadn't had any in… since Dean left. With each dip of his spoon, he was just a little more confident they might find themselves back where they'd been before…

In between bites, careful not to bring up the last few weeks, Sam tried to keep up the chatter. He told Dean about the various upcoming events in the city, and that there was a cocktail at a museum that he could come to with him, if he wore a suit. Chuckling at the look on Dean's face, he took another spoonful of mousse into his mouth, then pointed the spoon at him. "You might be surprised… maybe it won't be as boring as one of my history channel shows."


	8. Chapter 8

  
Dean walked home slowly from Bobby's garage. It was already after dark, but not as late as he'd hoped it would be. Bobby had let him stay and work late, off the clock of course, but had chased him out finally telling him to stop hiding out here and go home. The older man was surprisingly perceptive, and Dean couldn't exactly argue since that was exactly what he'd been doing.   


  
For the past two weeks he'd spend nearly every day at the garage. At first it had been a little awkward going back, but Bobby hadn't asked him any questions about where he'd been or what he'd been up to. Simply clapping him on the back and putting him to work. Dean had been grateful to the man more than ever after that.

It had been good to have something else to think about rather than… everything else. He'd stayed as long as he could. Working long after his 'shift' ended and was surprised when he was done when Bobby pressed a check into his hands. Dean had never expected to actually be paid for the work he was doing, considering Bobby was teaching him at the same time, and tried to give it back but the man merely cuffed him on the back of the head as he practically pushed him out the door and told him not to spend it all in one place. 

Bobby was a good man. He really didn't deserve his kindness.

Dean waved half heartedly to the waiters at the restaurant across the street, Daryl and Sarah, as he entered Samuel's apartment building and made his way slowly up the stairs. Trying to mentally brace himself for another painfully awkward evening. 

It wasn't that he regretted coming back. Not exactly. He regretted that Samuel didn't look at him the same anymore, and he simply couldn't look at the angel. He regretted how even the simplest conversations they shared felt stiff and forced, even though both of them pretended to be relaxed and didn't notice. 

He regretted there was always distance between them now. They didn't sit together on the couch anymore, or if they did he was on one end and Samuel was on the other. At night if he had nightmares he didn't go to Samuel's room. He forced himself back to sleep or he just stayed up the rest of the night, and the increasingly sleepless nights were making him short tempered.

He regretted how he always had to keep his mental barriers up now, not that Samuel told him he had to, but… Dean had a feeling it would only make things harder for them both if he let them down. 

It was hard enough as it was. That's why he was spending so much time 'hiding' at Bobby's. Having Samuel so close and so far away at the same time was just as hard as he'd imagined it would be. A little slice of hell. Every second wishing things could be like they were. Wishing even more they could be more than they were. But Sam had made himself clear, and Dean was so afraid the next time he 'pushed' the angel would tell him to leave or hand him off to someone else like he'd mentioned before. 

Dean knew he couldn't take either of those things happening, but at the same time he didn't know how much longer things could stay like they were.   


* * *

Night had fallen. It was way past five, and Dean was late, again. This time later than ever before.

For the first time in weeks, Sam left Dean’s food in the oven, and took his own upstairs to the roof to eat alone. Falling back into his old rituals, he poured himself a glass of red wine and breathed in the night’s air. He listened to the sounds of the city, and tried to imagine he could feel it’s heart beat. Imagined what was going on behind all those shaded and closed windows... imagined what it would be like to be a participant, rather than an observer.

It didn’t take the edge off his longing for Dean. Not in the least. So many times, his mind had sought out Dean’s... trying to reconnect, trying to re-establish the strange and wonderful link that Samuel had thought was such a miracle.

His food sat next to him, steam rising from it on this cool San Francisco night. Sam stared into his glass for a moment, stirring the liquid, before drinking some of it. It had been easy to accept how everything had intensified, colors, emotions, feelings... when Dean hadn’t been so anxious to build a wall between them. But seeing the color drain out of his world... that was a lot harder, for Sam. A lot.

He was being selfish. He was asking for something for himself, not for Dean. Dean was fine. He was learning, and socializing with the outside world. Even earning a living, and damn... the things Bobby said about him made Samuel proud. Bobby wasn’t one to give false praise. He should be happy for Dean... he was happy for him.

It didn’t change the fact that Sam was still walking on the broken glass Dean left behind.

* * *

“I’m home.” Dean said as he let himself into the apartment. Wincing a little at the words as he always did lately, especially when it hardly felt like ‘home’ anymore.

The young man was a little surprised when he didn’t see Samuel right away. He wasn’t in the living room, or in the kitchen, or even in his bedroom as Dean took a quick walk through the apartment, finding it empty.

Dinner was already made, waiting for him in the oven, so it wasn’t much a stretch to figure out where the angel was. He knew how much Sam preferred eating his meals outside up on the roof when the weather was decent, but for the first time Samuel himself hadn’t waited to have dinner with him.

Dean was surprised to find how much that realization hurt, even though he knew it was exactly what he’d ‘wanted’. Why he kept coming home late in the first place. No, it wasn’t what he _really_ wanted, but he couldn’t have what he really wanted, so he just had to settle for the increasing distance between them. Hoping it would eventually make things easier somehow.

It wasn’t.

Not hungry in the least anymore Dean simply returned to the empty living room. Stretching out on the couch, since he was alone, and flipping through the channels on the television half heartedly. Not really watching anything, but it was better than focusing on all the loneliness and regret he was feeling instead.

Nicole had asked him out again tonight before she left… maybe he should just say yes… She was nice, he didn't feel for her anything even remotely what he felt for Sam, but he just felt so alone... Dean sighed heavily as he felt his eyes starting to drift closed. Exhaustion from the past couple sleepless nights catching up to him despite the early hour and his depressed thoughts. He was asleep almost before he realized just how tired he felt. The remote falling limply in his hand mid click.

* * *

Samuel walked inside, balancing his plate, glass and half empty bottle. At first, he wasn’t trying to be quiet, but the instant he saw Dean asleep on the sofa, he slowed down and made sure the crystal stopped hitting the china.

He took a moment to look at Dean. He looked healthy enough, not like when he’d first come back to him. But there was definitely a sadness that clung to him like a second skin. No, it wasn’t quite sadness, it was _defeat_. There was a harder edge to him, too, one that he should have developed in maybe another five years, but not in the bloom of youth. How could that have happened in the short period of time he’d been here, when his lifelong hardships at the asylum had failed to dent him like this?

More than one of them felt defeat. The angel hunched his shoulders and quietly headed to the kitchen. As he washed up, he was contemplating waking Dean to eat his dinner, when something stirred in the air.

He closed his eyes, seeking the disturbance. One arm held out, he started to turn slowly, visualizing the fabric of the world, and the geography of the area… where… where was it? Further and further, he reached out, voices, chattering, radios, images of ships and cargo, or children, of the earth being tilled… and then darkness, a big blot that was spreading across the land. Foot prints in the sand. Blood… death… pestilence.

When his eyes opened, they were black with fury. Cain.

*

Leaving his clothes strewn all over the bed, Samuel donned his battle gear. He took his sword, and didn’t notice he’d left the secret compartment in his closet open. When he left his room, his face was as forbidding as that of any avenging angel, and all who could see him would fear to cross his path.

Still, he stopped at the couch and covered Dean, then lowered the sound of the television. Complete silence was more likely to wake him now, and Samuel wanted to be sure Dean would sleep through the night. If he realized Sam was gone, there was a chance he would seek out his mind. Gently, he brushed his mouth over Dean’s cheek, a gesture he’d avoided after Dean had returned to him and then pulled away a little at a time.

In his bold scrawl, he left Michael’s number on a piece of paper under the remote, and then was gone.

* * *

Michael put his palm against the door to Samuel’s apartment and it immediately opened. With him, a gust of wind swept into the room. The television was on, and he saw a figure sleeping on the couch under a blanket. Samuel let his ward sleep in the living room? The ward really had Samuel twisted around his pinky.

A few strides had the angel next to Dean. He bent down, his long dark hair falling across his face. “Dean, wake up. I am Michael,” he said, expecting Dean to know him even without giving his title, although he wasn’t hiding behind any form other than his true one. “Where is Samuel? None of us feel his presence anymore. Can you help?” he demanded, even before sleep had left the young man’s eyes.

“Well?” Gabriel burst into the room. “What does the human have to say?” he asked, blue eyes blazing like a burning sky.

* * *

  
_“Samuel…” Dean moaned the angel’s name, lost in pleasure, clutching at his lover’s back as he moved inside of him. He lifted his hips with every deep thrust, trying to take him even deeper. Needing him as deep as possible. So he would feel him for days. So he would feel him forever…_

_Arching his back, the soft fur from the rug tickling his skin, Dean whimpered. Wrapping his legs around Samuel’s waist. He never wanted to let him go. Never wanted this to end. It might only be a dream but it felt more real to him than anything in his life ever had before. He’d never felt this close to anyone. Never felt loved before. Never felt wanted or needed._

_“Please… Samuel… please…” He begged unashamedly. Begging for things he knew he could never have, but he didn’t care. Clutching the angel even tighter to him. Begging for Samuel not to stop. Not to regret. Not to push him away._

_He couldn’t go back to being alone. He’d been alone his whole life. He just couldn’t go back. Not after being this close. Feeling love like this…_

Dean opened his eyes, more than a little disorientated at being pulled so abruptly out of the dream. By a voice he didn’t recognize at that. A face hovering over him he’d only seen once, and at a distance, but the wings sprouting from the man’s back pretty much gave away his identity. Putting the young man at ease only a little.

“What…” Michael? Dean remembered the name. Samuel had mentioned it. But what was he doing here? Where is…?

The young man suddenly felt very much awake as he sat up abruptly. They couldn’t feel Samuel’s presence? Dean barely spared a glance towards the other angel who barged into the apartment. He was already halfway up off the couch, throwing off the blanket covering him, and pushing past Michael as he ran to Samuel’s room.

He froze in the doorway, finding it empty. Samuel’s clothes thrown haphazardly on the bed, something the normally meticulously neat angel never did. But it wasn’t until he saw the closet left open, saw what was normally hidden, Samuel’s weapons and armor, some of which was missing, that Dean felt the first true knife of fear pierce his heart.

_Samuel?_ After so long of fighting to keep his barriers up around his mind he was actually a little surprised how easily they came down now. Seeking the link between him and the angel that should be there. That had been there ever since Samuel had pulled him out of hell, even if it had only been a faint warm spark at the time.

Dean’s face paled in horror when he realized he couldn’t even feel that. There was nothing but a cold silence where the angel should be and briefly he couldn’t help but wonder if this is what Samuel felt every time he put up the barriers between them. Fighting down guilt and a slowly growing panic, Dean closed his eyes and concentrated harder. Ignoring everything else around him. Reaching out like he had the first time Samuel had gone off into battle and Dean had followed, though without a direction this time it was like searching blindly in the dark.

_Samuel! Can you hear me? Where are you? Sam…_

All he felt was more cold, and though he feared what that could mean he tried to follow it instead. Pushing his way through the dark. Reaching towards it. When the pain finally hit him it dropped him to his knees with a cry and made him glad he hadn’t had dinner. He could barely think through the agony washing over him but he forced himself to keep concentrating, not pulling back, even when he tasted blood in his mouth.

_Sam?_   


* * *

Samuel’s eyes saw nothing. Not even the pitch black of his surroundings. The metallic taste of his own blood dissipated long ago. The pain gave way to only numbness. No sound penetrated his tomb, other than the sinister splashing of waves against rock as the tide came in. His heart slowed... stopped. His mind shut down, closing itself off from all stimulation.

But something registered. Something faint. Something familiar. Something worth living for.

*

Gabriel was hard on Michael’s heels as they reached Samuel’s bedroom. He glanced at the mess. “Well, human? Anything?”

Michael frowned. “Give him a chance.” Despite his words, he too was staring at Dean, hoping for something... anything.

“Samuel is gone, and there is nothing this human he put all his time into can do to change it. He’s gone.” Gabriel clenched his hands, trying to hold back the sting of tears. “A mere human... a crippled ward cannot reach him where WE cannot.”

Michael put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, closing his eyes and giving over to him as much of his own powers of seeking as he could. “Keep trying.”

* * *

  
_Samuel…_

Nothing. There was no reply. Not in words, anyway. Just pain. Samuel’s pain. Dean could feel tears burning in his eyes even though they were tightly closed, yet his tears had nothing to do with the pain. At least not the physical kind.

Fear. Worry. Guilt. Desperation. Those feelings nearly overwhelmed him but he pushed them away. He could feel all those things later, if he must, right now he couldn’t let them distract him. Anger sparked inside him as well when he heard the words of the second angel. He wanted to tell him, whoever he was, to shut the fuck up, but he didn’t waste his time or energy no how tempting it was.

At least the pain meant something.

“He’s alive… he’s hurt…” Dean said softly, his voice strained. It was both comforting and not. Yes, Samuel was alive, thank god, but if he were hurt as badly as Dean feared. Oh god, he was so cold… he was hurting so much… He wished he could say the weight of the hand on his shoulder was comforting. But it wasn’t really. Not right now. But somehow it helped him focus.

When Dean finally opened his eyes, all he could see was darkness, but he could hear. The sound of water. Waves crashing against stone. Cold…

“There’s water… waves… the smell of salt…” He whispered, his own voice sounding far away to his own ears. The pain was starting to fade, and he didn’t know if that was because the connection was weakening or because Sam was…

_Samuel, please. Please hold on. Please don’t leave me. I love you… your friends are here, we’re coming, we just need to know where…_

And then he knew. Somehow he just knew. Not so much a thought passing between them, just a feeling, but he knew he was right.

“Southeast. Five hundred miles… on the coast… cliffs… he’s there.”

* * *

“Cliffs.”

“Five hundred miles.” Michael’s gaze locked with Gabriel’s.

“Baja... no, San Diego... La Jolla. I feel the disturbance... it’s there. Let’s go.” Leaving Dean behind, Gabriel strode out of the room. “Michael.”

Michael put his hand out to Dean.

“We don’t need him.”

“You coming?” Michael asked, ignoring the other angel, and nodding when Dean took his hand.

They raced after Gabriel, their feet barely touching the concrete sidewalk when they launched up into the sky. The wind whipped their hair and burned their cheeks as they sped to save a friend.

*

The grass was soft under their feet, and deadened the sound of their footsteps. The cliffs were edged with white railing. Gabriel searched for breaks and walked to the edge to look down at the beach. Nothing.

“There was a battle here. The taint is dark and from an ancient entity, the sulfur is faint,” Gabriel started to walk away, trying to pin down the parameters of the battle. “Poison. The earth was being poisoned.”

“Explains why Samuel didn’t wait.” Michael started to head in the other direction.

*

Cold water started to slap his face. Sam’s eyes opened, and he felt it. Not it, him.

_Get out of my mind. Get out now._ He controlled the pain, but he couldn’t control his reaction to saltwater in his nostrils, threatening to drown out his breaths.

* * *

Dean didn’t even feel his normal fear of flying. Though he’d felt far from comfortable being held by Michael, he was too focused on Samuel to worry about anything else right now.

_We’re coming. Hang on. We’re almost there. I love you. Please hold on…_ He repeated over and over. Though he got nothing in return, he still sent all the reassurance and love he could over their bond. Praying it would ease his pain somehow. Praying it would help Samuel hang on until they arrived. That he wouldn’t give up… _Please don’t leave me… please…_

He tried to stay as deeply connected to Samuel as he could, even if it was exhausting. No matter how much it might hurt him feeling Samuel’s pain. Every once in a while he gave updates to Michael. Not that anything really changed, but he did his best to be ‘useful’. Considering he’d almost been left behind.

Dean threw a brief glare towards the other angel who’d said they didn’t need him. Maybe that was true, but even if they’d both refused to take him he would have found a way to go regardless. Samuel needed him, and he was going to be there, damn it. He’d have to remember to thank Michael later…

However when they reached the cliffs, and they didn’t immediately see Samuel anywhere Dean’s heart sank. Where was he? He could feel him, close, but…

_Samuel? Where are you? We’re here, please…_ Dean tried again and again as he walked along the edge of the cliffs. Looking down over the railing at the sea below. The sound of the waves echoing in stereo in his head as well as ears, making him anxious. So close… so damn close…

When he finally heard the weak desperate words in his head, it was like a shout after all the silence. Dean wanted to weep with relief, but instead he only felt terror building inside of him. Because he could feel the icy cold water on his face now. Surrounding him. The salty taste of the ocean drowning out the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Filling his nose. Choking him.

“Samuel! He’s drowning!” Dean shouted in panic at the two angels even as he started running. Desperately looking for a way down the cliffs. A sign of Samuel somewhere at the bottom. Something. Anything. But somehow he knew that the angel would not be out in the open for them to see. Not the way the sounds were echoing in his ears… like he imagined it would in a cave…

_No! I’m not leaving you! Where are you!_ He shouted angrily back, even as he choked on his next breath. Gagging even though there was nothing in his airway. It was then that Dean came across the tunnel. He couldn’t tell if it was natural or manmade, but it was wide enough for at least two people and had steep uneven steps carved into the stone leading down towards the beach that was probably visible when the tide was low.

Dean didn’t hesitate plunging into the darkness. Hitting his head more than once on the uneven ceiling and scraping his hands as he grasped at the wall, trying to balance himself as he took the steps down far faster than he should have given he couldn’t see a damn thing. He was already up to his waist in icy cold water before he ran into a wall of rocks blocking his path.

“Samuel! Are you there? Sam!”

* * *

Sam tried to force calmness on himself, to control the natural panic from drowning, but he knew he was failing. Failing as gloriously as his attempts to throw Dean out of his mind.

Then he heard Dean calling him. Not inside his head, but here. Somewhere close. Demanding he answer.

If he’d been alone. If he didn’t have Dean to think about, he might have let himself slip back into the comfort of unconsciousness. But he remembered too well the panic that welled up in him when Dean was in danger. He hadn’t been able to breath, to think... and he couldn’t let Dean go through that.

Lifting his head up, he coughed some of the water out. “Here... here...” he rasped. _Yes, I hear you. I’m... trying. Trapped._

Time had healed some of his wounds, and some of his power was replenished. Putting his hand up to the solid sheet of rock above his face, he tried to make it crumble. His palm grew warm, but a new wave of water came in, covering him entirely. No, not now... no....

Dark velvet wrapped round Sam, crushing him, deadening the pain, deadening the sounds and even the hopes.

*

Michael and Gabriel came running. They could feel Sam’s life force now.

“He’s alive,” Michael nodded.

Gabriel gripped Dean’s arm, and pulled him back, pushing him away far away, before stretching his arms out. Rocks... boulders exploded, shattering into pebbles and grains of sand.

“Samuel?!” Michael called. “He’s there.”

Gabriel worked faster, until the opening was wide enough for him to go inside. “I’ll get him.” The moonlight showed Sam’s figure only a few yards down.

* * *

It was a strange sensation feeling both relief and greater fear so strongly at the same time when he finally heard Samuel’s weak voice from the other side of the blockage. Even though the rocks and the ominous sounds of the waves. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care.

The seawater was so cold he was already beginning to shake, his legs and feet growing numb and he’d only been standing in it for a few minutes. How long had Samuel been like this? Trapped? Hours? Dean tried his best to keep the panic out of his thoughts, not wanting Sam to worry about _him_ at a time like this. But it was hard. So damn hard.

He pushed at the rocks. His fingers clawing at their rough surfaces, trying to find some kind or purchase or weakness. Trying to get to Samuel somehow, but they didn’t budge an inch.

When he was suddenly pulled away he almost didn’t register at first who it was or why and he struggled fighting against Michael who held him back. It wasn’t until the first huge bolder exploded that he stopped fighting to get to Samuel. Letting the other angels do what they could. Even as panic clawed at him like a ravenous beast, because he couldn’t breathe. No. Samuel couldn’t breathe. He could feel him slipping away…

NO!

The second Dean saw light on the other side of the rocks, he broke free from Michael’s hold. Racing through the opening before either angel could stop him desperate to get to the still figure he could barely see underneath the rocks and water. Water that was up to his chest now as his fingers finally curled around cold flesh.

He pushed at the rocks pinning Samuel but they refused to budge an inch. He tried to tug the angel’s upper body up above the rising water but there was simply too much of it now. Dean took a deep breath. Filling his lungs with as much air as he could and dove beneath the icy water. Sealing his lips over the angel’s and exhaling into his mouth, giving him air.

_We’re getting you out. Don’t you dare leave me._   


* * *

Gabriel forced the waters back, away from Sam, then turned to watch the human hovering over him and administering CPR. Only the look Michael was giving him prevented him from tossing the human back again and taking over.

_Don’t you dare leave me._

The words echoed in Samuel’s head, over and over, growing louder with every breath that was forced into him. He coughed out the water in his lungs, and still he heard the demands. _Hasn’t Gabriel instructed you yet on the deference you must show an angel?_ There was a warm smile in his thoughts.

“He’s fine.” Gabriel’s eyes darkened.

“Whew, yeah.” Michael nodded in relief, then searched Gabe’s face, and followed his gaze to Dean still working on Sam. “They’ve got a connection.”

A dark flush swept over Gabriel’s face. “He can breathe on his own now.” When Dean didn’t listen, he turned to Michael. “He’s enjoying it too much, this human.”

Coughing, Michael shrugged. “He’s worried, doesn’t understand that Samuel will heal.”

“He can’t have missed the fact he’s breathing, unless he’s an imbecile, which is a distinct possibility.”

Hearing the argument, Sam finally opened his eyes. “Hey there. Shouldn’t you be watching Pimp My Ride or something?” As he started to sit up, the other angels came up to them, and helped him get up. Yet Sam had eyes only for Dean. “Thank you,” he smiled, gritting his teeth only when Michael pulled some stones that had cut into his leg out, so he could heal.

“You’re welcome. Next time you feel like taking something this big on alone, don’t.” Gabriel’s tone was clipped, but his eyes held unshed tears as he crossed in front of Dean, helped Sam out of the tunnel system, and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips.

Michael waited for Dean to scramble out, and followed. He clapped his hand on Sam’s back and also gave him a kiss, to the cheek. “Prettier than Raphael? I don’t think so, his nose isn’t as straight,” he said, laughing as both Sam and Gabriel looked at Dean.

Sam gave an embarrassed cough, while Gabriel hooded his eyes and refused to join in the laughter.

* * *

Even when the waters receded, much to Dean's amazement, he didn't pull away from Samuel. Forcing air into the angel's lungs, forcing him to breathe, not pulling away until Sam finally started coughing up the seawater in his lungs. Though the young man's panic didn't begin to fade until he heard Samuel's teasing words in his mind.

_I'll show you deference._ He sent back, before covering the angel's mouth with his own once more. Kissing him boldly, not caring in the least of their 'audience' or what they said about him. Though despite his relief and gratitude he felt towards the other angels for saving Samuel, he felt more than a little irritation towards Gabriel when he called him an imbecile.

Dean was breathing more than a little heavily and his heart was pounding, though whether from the kiss when it was finally broken, or leftover fear from nearly losing Samuel he wasn't sure. Perhaps a bit of both.

He stepped away only far enough to let the angels help Samuel out of the rocks, but when he tried to go back to Sam he frowned when Gabriel practically cut him off and began helping Samuel back up the stairs of the tunnel. Leaving him to follow, and fighting not to narrow his eyes even more when Gabriel kissed Sam. No matter how light or chaste it was, Dean could see the look in the other angel's eyes. Recognizing the longing only because the young man knew the feeling so well.

Dean wasn't exactly expecting Michael's words, or for everyone's attention to suddenly turn on him and he felt himself flush in spite of himself. He couldn't believe Samuel had actually _told_ someone else that… he thought he was prettier than Raphael, whoever that was. Not sure if he was pleased or embarrassed. But he definitely felt self conscious, especially remembering almost those exact words that Samuel had said to him in their dream… and from the look on the angel's face he knew Sam was remembering too.

Suddenly the distance between them was far too much, and again not caring about their audience, Dean closed that distance and wrapped his arms tightly around Samuel.

_Don't you ever do that again, damn it._ He sent angrily, however the flood of love and relief he also sent softened the words.

* * *

He'd missed Dean so much, it was worth almost dying to eradicate the distance between them. Closing his own arms around him, he answered. _When did you get so bossy?_

Gabriel gave Michael a surly look. "Did you get a thank you?"

"Well… not quite like that thank you."

When Gabriel turned back, it was to find Dean plastered to Samuel, and kissing him on the mouth. For a long time. "This is unseemly. Why is he letting him?"

"You know Sam and his humans. He probably feels his ward needs reassurance."

"Reassurance is a pat on the head. He's sullying Samuel." Gabe took a step closer. "I think he's got his tongue in Sam's mouth."

Michael clapped his hand on Gabe's shoulder. "Nah, it's chaste. The boy's seen too many movies and is making all the motions."

"I don't like him. He's got Sam distracted. That's why this happened."

"Gabriel…" Michael looked up as the angel launched himself into the sky.

"Sam. Samuel. Sam!"

Keeping his mouth closed as they parted so that Dean's tongue wouldn't be visible as he pulled out of Sam's, Sam turned. "Hmm?"

"What the… what are you thinking?" Giving him a look that spoke volumes, Michael took to the skies.

"Nothing… obviously." He still had one arm around Dean, and he pulled him closer, up hard against him, cradling his head with his other hand as he lowered his mouth in a hot, uninhibited kiss. He'd been wanting, needing this for weeks. In his dreams, in his waking hours… oh he tried to deny it, tried to call it something else, but now the dams had burst and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from acting on his needs for this one man who affected him like this. "Dean," he groaned, rubbing his pelvis against Deans, leaving no doubt as to his growing state of arousal. _I missed you. In my dreams… in my life, I missed you._ Spreading his wings around Dean, he surrounded him completely.

* * *

Bossy.

Dean almost laughed at that, but he was far too busy pressing their mouths back together. Trying not to moan too loudly as he kissed the angel again. Pushing his tongue past Sam’s lips. Clinging to him tighter. Melting against his body as Samuel wrapped his arms around him and held him close. Closer than they’d been in weeks. Closer than he ever thought they’d be again. All but oblivious to everything but Samuel’s warmth. His taste. The feel of his arms. The feel of his body.

God… why did it take Samuel almost dying for them to be together like this? So close… he’d almost lost him. He knew that fear was partially what was driving his need. To be closer. No matter how reckless it was to be doing this right in front of the other angels like this.

So lost he didn’t even hear Michael talking until Sam finally pulled their mouths apart, though not without a small whimper of protest from Dean. He had the decency to blush a little when the other angel asked him, them, Sam what he was thinking. He hoped he didn’t just get Samuel in trouble or something, but at the same time he didn’t give a damn.

They were both soaking wet, but the young man didn’t feel the least bit cold anymore. The frozen empty feeling in his chest that had been there for weeks had broken away and been replaced with so much heat in fact it was probably a wonder he didn’t burst into flames where he stood.

Especially when they were finally alone and Samuel pulled him even harder against his body, forcing a gasp from him but definitely not in protest as they kissed again hungrily. The fact that Samuel had actually initiated the kiss this time only making it hotter and he clung to Samuel’s shoulders, his knees feeling slightly weak as the angel rubbed against his stomach.

“God, Samuel…” Dean moaned as he pushed back against him. His fingers threading through the angel’s hair as he pulled Sam’s mouth back to his for another deep kiss. _Missed you so damn much… love you so much…_

He shivered a little as he felt Samuel’s wings wrap around him, hiding them from the world. The soft feathers tickling a little and making his body tingle in strange but definitely not unpleasant ways.

“I need you… please…” he gasped against the angel’s lips.

* * *

As they hurtled through the skies, Sam’s mouth never left Dean’s. Kissing, tasting, and probing the sweet hot cavern of his mouth, making it his all over again. He burned with a fever like he’d never known before, one that made him reckless and focused on one thing only. Dean.

Dean’s legs were clamped around his waist, the heat of his skin soaking right through their damp, wet clothes. The hard knot of Dean’s arousal pressing into his stomach made his breath catch. He tightened his arms and helped Dean move up and down his body, groaning as the ache between his legs intensified. _I need you too. I need you like then._ Images from their dream encounter flashed through his mind, hands grabbing … clenching, his mouth all over Dean, teasing him, tasting him, and bringing him to the brink, penetrating deep inside his body with every thrust of his hips, melding them together as one. The friction was excruciating. “Ahhh… Dean.”

He didn’t know how they made it back, only that they were stumbling up the stairs, still touching each other, still hungry and desperate. He kicked the door shut behind him, and dragged Dean back into his arms. “I want strawberry, Dean. I really want strawberry.” He swallowed over the lump in his throat. He knew what he was doing, he knew he would never again be as pure as he was at this moment, that like Dean, he’d never again taste as innocent… but he didn’t care. He needed this, he needed Dean, needed him in every sense of the word, body and soul.

* * *

Dean hadn’t quite been prepared when Samuel suddenly launched them both into the air, and he yelped a little into the angel’s mouth.

_A little warning might have been nice._ He sent, though his irritation was mild at best.

He held onto the angel tighter, not because he was afraid of falling because he knew Sam would never let anything like that happen. Just trying to get even closer to him. Wrapping his legs around the angel’s waist, clutching at his strong back, loving the way his strong muscles moved beneath his hands.

The entire time they flew, Samuel never stopped kissing him. The angel’s hands on his ass helped him rub his aching arousal against Sam’s stomach and Dean had to admit he could definitely get used to flying if it was always like this.

_Oh, god, yes…_ The young man moaned, and obscene needy sound, as images from their dream only heightened his excitement more. He knew he could come right now. Right like this. It would feel so damn good, but at the same time he didn’t want it to be like this. He didn’t want it to be just desperate rutting against each other. He wanted them to be together, naked, in Samuel’s bed, nothing between them. The angel making love to him like he had in their dream. He wanted it to be perfect…

He was glad that Samuel could fly fast.

Samuel didn’t set him down until they’d landed in front of his apartment building, and Dean was very glad for how late it was because he knew they would have made an embarrassing sight stumbling up the stairs trying to run, grope, and kiss each other all at the same time. He almost tripped and fell on his ass twice and he couldn’t stop from giggling, yes giggling, much to his embarrassment. Not like he really gave a damn right now.

Though his amusement faded abruptly once they were home, the door closing the outside world away, and he was in Samuel’s arms again. The angel looking at him like he was everything, and tomorrow Dean would vehemently deny nearly swooning against the angel.

Dean slid his hands behind the angel’s neck and smiled.

“Enough metaphors. I want you.” He breathed against the angel’s lips before bringing their mouths back together. Kissing Samuel slowly and deeply.

* * *

  
_I’ll show you metaphors_. Giving mental smirk, Samuel started to send him erotic images, his mouth mapping every inch of Dean’s thrashing body, his hand around Dean’s shaft, his thumb rubbing the sensitive underside of his cock in slow, lazy circles, and Dean’s hand wrapping around him...

He was holding Dean so tight, they could barely move against each other, heightening the tension and need building between them. He didn’t know how long he could take it, kissing, satisfying himself with the play of their tongues, while his body burned.. screamed for more, while every cell in his body reacted to Dean’s closeness, his scent, the sounds he made... only he could make.

When his entire body hummed and throbbed, he groaned and broke the kiss. Pushing his hand between them, he unzipped Dean’s pants with one quick motion. “Enough metaphors.” He could barely recognize his voice, so thick and heavy with desire. He started backing Dean toward the hall, undoing the button above his zipper, and then tugging his shirt up over his head.

Smoothing his palm up and down Dean’s bare chest, still heading to his room, he used his teeth to undo the ties on his leather arm guard. Already, his breaths were coming out harsh and fast. He’d never done anything this wrong, that felt this right. Not ever.

* * *

Dean gave an almost choked gasp against the angel’s lips when the intensely erotic images suddenly flooded his mind. But more than just seeing, he could practically feel Samuel’s tongue tracing along his muscles. His hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking him, teasing him, and he tried to rub against Sam to ease some of the ache in his groin but the angel was holding him so damn tight he couldn’t move, only whimper in frustration into Samuel’s mouth as he felt like he was slowly being driven insane.

_Please… I can’t take it… I need you… god, Samuel…_ The young man begged unashamedly and whimpered when the angel finally slid a hand between their bodies. Groaning and bucking against Samuel when he was quickly freed from his still damp jeans. Releasing the angel for only a second to allow Sam to strip his shirt off of him, and then he was clutching at the angel again as he stumbled backwards down the hall towards the bedroom.

Arching into Samuel’s hand stroking his chest like a cat, though making another sound of near frustration as he tried to help the angel out of his own clothing and realized he had absolutely no idea how.

“How the hell do you wear this crap?” Dean asked, growling under his breath, tugging at some laces that were starting to get tangled on him and pissing him off. Giving up, and just tugging the short robes up enough so that he could slide his hands underneath them. Stroking along the powerfully muscled thighs and the angel’s ass with a grin.

“Not that you don’t look really hot in this getup…” He added with a grin, before the smile slipped off his face abruptly and he stopped in the doorway to Samuel’s room. Planting his feet, not letting the angel push him any further.

“Tell me this isn’t going to be like…. Please, tell me this isn’t just going to be one night, in the heat of the moment or some crap like that, that you’ll regret in the morning, and then you’ll never let me touch you again. I can’t go through that again, Sam…” Dean said softly, swallowing hard as he looked up into the angel’s eyes, begging for reassurance.

* * *

Samuel would have laughed at the sheer frustration in Dean’s voice, but when his hands traveled up his thighs and lingered on his ass, it felt like all the air was knocked out of him. “Dean...” He blinked in surprise when the mischief in Dean’s eyes died, and he stood stock still in the frame of the door.

Had he changed his mind? Now? Sam bit his lip hard, hoping in vain the pain would conquer the needs that had taken over his body from the moment they’d kissed right there on the cliffs.

Then he heard Dean’s pained question... remembered him asking it before in the dream, and the terrible morning after. The blood drained out of his face.

He placed his hands on the doorframe, if only to prevent himself from pulling Dean into arms that still ached for him. “I never regretted what we did in my dream, not ever,” he said huskily, meaning every word, hoping Dean would believe. “If I were going to forget everything and could only choose one memory to keep, that moment with you would be the one.”

The rest of what Dean was asking him was more difficult. “I won’t regret tonight, and God help me, I... I can’t stand the thought of never being touched by you again.” He tried to not remember the pain of having felt Dean with others. Underneath all of his worry, there had been his own selfish feelings he’d had to deal with. “What I will regret is that as long as you’re... so long as there’s a you and me, I’ll be stealing your chance at a normal life. That and,” he took a breath. “We’d have to hide it.”

Maybe Dean would see it was madness. Maybe he’d realize this wasn’t the best for him. Sam’s fingers bit into the wood as he held his breath, not knowing what to hope for. The only thing he did know for sure was that he loved Dean body and soul. _I’d go to hell for you too._  


* * *

Dean held his breath but didn’t let himself hope. Because he knew too well now how much it hurt to have those hopes crushed.

Samuel had shown him that. Strangely it had never really been a problem before. When he’d lived in the asylum. Because he’d never had anything to hope _for_. Now he did. Too much, maybe. Too much to hope for that he might never have. Too much to lose… and he simply didn’t know how to deal with those kinds of blows to his heart.

So when the angel admitted that he’d never regretted what had happened between them before, in the dream, Dean stomped down on the faint stirrings in his heart before they could only hurt him later. Because he remembered Samuel’s words from before, all too well. When the angel admitted that he loved him…

It doesn’t matter how I feel, or what I want, we can’t be together…

Though as Samuel continued speaking it was harder to force down those feelings. As his heart began to beat so hard in his chest he was sure the angel would be able to feel it. His hands curling into fists at his side so he wouldn’t simply throw his arms around Samuel, kiss him senseless, and never let go. Because he had to know first. He just had to. Maybe he was completely selfish, but he didn’t care.

He didn’t just want part of Samuel, he would never be satisfied with just one night, he wanted all of him. He just wanted _him_ always. He needed him… needed him so much.

When Samuel finally said what he ‘regretted’, and that they would have to hide it… it, them, Dean didn’t care as long as there was a _them_ , he couldn’t hold back any longer. Practically throwing himself at the angel, and crushing their mouths together.

_Fuck normal._ Dean sent with a mental laugh, flooding their bond with all the joy and love he felt so that Samuel wouldn’t doubt for an instant this was what he really wanted. Tugging on the angel’s shoulders, pulling Samuel into the room, over to the bed, without breaking their kiss.

What the hell was normal anyway? He’d never been normal and he never would be. The demon that had attacked him on the street had proved that much. He would always be a freak. He might as well make the most of it. He didn’t want ‘normal’ anyway if it meant giving up Sam.

Dean only let the angel go when his knees hit the edge of the bed. Pulling away from Samuel’s lips with a regretful moan, though his eyes held lust and promise as he slowly sat down on the edge, looking up at the angel. Letting his hands once more settle on the angel’s thighs, sliding up underneath his robes as the young man leaned in to nuzzle against his crotch.

“Samuel, let me see your wings? Please?” Dean asked, he wasn’t even sure why he asked, except that he just wanted to see Samuel’s true form. Looking up into the angel’s eyes as he kissed and rubbed his cheek against his erection through the soft cotton robes. Cupping and squeezing his firm ass, pulling him closer.

* * *

It was beyond Samuel how they could be blind with need, mouths clinging, bodies rubbing together with increasing urgency, and yet the jokes never ended. He was pretty damned sure Dean was the only person on the planet who could make him hot with laughter.

He stood between Dean’s knees, swallowing hard and gripping Dean’s shoulders as Dean’s hands traveled up and down his thighs, leaving heat in their wake. He swayed at the sight of Dean’s sensuous mouth settling over his erection, his mind almost shutting down as heat and desire spiraled through him.

He was having trouble breathing, when Dean made his request. “My… my wings. I was hoping you wanted to see something else,” he whispered, looking down at his now rock hard erection clearly visible under his robe. “So you have a wing kink… how human of you,” he tried for Gabriel’s holier than though speak, but grinned as he made quick work of the rest of his armor, and stood bare chested.

The intensity of the look in Dean’s eyes made his heart thud all the harder against his chest. Taking a breath, he dropped every last layer of the illusions that he kept wrapped around him, and unfurled his large wings to their full span. His hair was slightly longer than in his human form, and his skin somewhat paler, his features a little more forbidding. “I’ve showed you mine…”

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh softly at Samuel’s reply. Oh, he definitely did want to see something else. But first things first. He wanted to see _Samuel_.

The young man stuck his tongue out playfully at the angel, and waited. Watching as Samuel quickly and effortlessly stripped off the rest of his armor. Leaving him dressed in only the short white robes that barely left anything to the imagination at this point, but even as stunning as Sam looked right now nothing could have really prepared Dean for when the angel finally dropped the illusions that kept him hidden even from his eyes that saw more than most people.

Dean’s jaw dropped as he stared up at the angel. Really, truly, seeing Samuel for the first time.

Dear god…

He thought he finally understood now when Samuel had said how most humans were in awe of angels. Not that he could blame them. Talk about deference… But more than that, seeing Samuel as he was now, it was impossible for Dean to forget that Sam wasn’t human, like he did sometimes even knowing what Samuel was. But at the same time, it didn’t matter to him.

Seeing Samuel this way, his true form didn’t make Dean feel any differently for the angel. He couldn’t love Samuel any more, or less, because he already loved the angel with all of his heart. Though he couldn’t deny maybe he felt a little bit humbled that such an amazingly beautiful creature could ever want him. But he didn’t feel intimidated, though by all rights he probably should have been, and it certainly didn’t change his mind about wanting Samuel.

Dean smiled up at the angel, reluctantly taking his hands away from Samuel’s skin with a final squeeze to his buttocks as he sat back a little further on the bed. Giving Sam the best ‘view’ he could as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his damp jeans and underwear and slowly pushed them down his hips. The material clinging to his skin a little as he wiggled out of the remainder of his clothes. Kicking them off his legs.

He sat there on the edge of the bed with his knees apart. His erection heavy and leaking a little against his stomach, begging for attention. Letting the angel look at every part of him without shame.

“I’m ready to see something else now.” Dean said softly, his words playful but his eyes hungry as he slipped his hands back underneath the angel’s robes. Sliding up the strong thighs. Pushing the soft cotton up as he went. Exposing Samuel to his gaze for the first time. Not a dream this time. Real. God, he was so beautiful…

Dean leaned forward to press his lips to the tip of the angel’s cock. A moan of pure desire escaping him as his flickered up to watch Samuel’s expression as his tongue slid out to taste for the first time.

* * *

As Dean leaned back and pulled his jeans down, exposing himself completely, Sam’s mouth went dry. Heat stole into his cheeks as his eyes slowly feasted on every inch of his lover’s perfectly sculpted body. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered hoarsely, flooding their mind link with desire, lust, love... so intense, so tangled together, they were impossible to separate.

He wanted to kiss and taste every part of him, to worship him with his mouth and with his body. He wanted to... he would ... violate every rule... commit every sin... taste forbidden fruit, because he couldn’t help wanting Dean in every way.

His gaze lingered on Dean’s cock. He remembered so well the first time he’d touched Dean there. The confusing intensity of feelings that assaulted him when he’d helped Dean find release. His purpose had been pure... to calm him, to rid Dean of shame, but he’d found himself responding to the experience in ways he’d never imagined.

Warm hands moved up his thighs, sending scorching heat higher... straight to his cock. He didn’t have long to wait, Dean pushed his robes aside and when he brushed his tip with those sensuous lips of his, Samuel gave a strangled moan. It had been good in his dream... but this was... it was pure ecstasy. Then Dean flicked his tongue out and touched him another way, soft wet heat painting his cock, making him burn, and Sam was almost afraid of how quickly his need was rising.

He tugged on his robe, and it fell apart on the bed, giving Dean better access. One hand on Dean’s shoulder to steady himself, the other stroking his hair, he leaned in. “Again. Please.”

* * *

Dean moaned softly as Samuel strip the rest of his clothing off, leaving him completely bare standing in front of him. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his whole life.

The angel’s skin absolutely flawless, pale, except for the flush of desire, desire for _him_. His wings spread out, pure white, almost glowing in the moonlight filtering through the window. He looked almost ethereal. Like a dream. But not a dream, not this time.

The expression of need in the angel’s eyes made him feel weak inside. The way Sam pet his hair so gently making him feel warm and so damn content, even with so much passion pumping through his veins. The flood of love and desire traveling between them over their link that would have made him dizzy it was so intense if he wasn’t already sitting down.

How could Samuel ever think there could be anyone but him in his life? That he could ever want ‘normal’ after this? No one could possibly make him feel the way Samuel made him feel. No one could possibly make him feel so loved… so needed…

Dean all but purred at the request, smiling up at the angel as he brushed his lips across the tip of the angel’s erection again, more than willing to give Samuel whatever he wanted. Parting his lips he let his tongue trace around the crown of his lover’s shaft over and over. Playing with just the head for a long time, dipping into the slit with a moan as Samuel’s taste exploded over his tongue.

Not satisfied with just a taste anymore, he finally let his lips wrap around Samuel’s cock, slowly taking his lover into his mouth as deeply as he could with a moan.

* * *

Each time Dean’s tongue flicked out and touched him, liquid heat spasmed through Sam, making him thrust his hips forward seeking more pressure. All of his blood surged to his cock until he was so thick and hard, it almost hurt. His breaths started coming faster, his fingers kneading into Dean’s shoulder and tunneling through his hair. He was drowning in the sensations, wanting this to go on forever and at the same time wanting more...

The sight of Dean opening his mouth wide and taking him inside completely was almost too much. A deep groan broke out of him. He bit his lower lip and started to thrust into the wet heat of Dean’s mouth, the rhythmic press of his slick tongue driving him slowly to the edge. “So good... so good, Dean,” he managed to say, groaning as Dean hummed and created all new sensations. He throbbed and pulsed, grew desperate... desperate to come... desperate to claim ... desperate to make Dean his and his alone. Scorching heat swept over him in waves until he was unable to tolerate more. “I’m coming... oh God... oh...”

He was completely unprepared for the blinding heat that gripped his body or the powerful strength of his release. He shouted Dean’s name, shuddering as the pressure slowly eased and he could breath again. When his lover pulled his mouth off of his shaft, Sam could see that not a drop of his semen had escaped.

His gaze locked with Dean’s. “That was... beautiful, like you.” Leaning in, he kissed Dean slowly, but firmly, tasting himself and Dean... just the way it should be. Pulling away, he pushed Dean down onto his back. “My turn to love you,” he whispered hotly.

Still standing on the edge of the bed, he panther-crawled up Dean’s body and brushed his mouth over every inch of Dean’s face, kissing his nose last and thinking... definitely more handsome than Raphael. His mouth slipped down again, feathering kisses along Dean’s cheeks, then playfully biting him lightly along his jaw line. When he reached his throat, he lingered over his adam’s apple, playing with it with his tongue.

Because of their link, he was keenly aware of where Dean wanted to be touched and what gave him the most pleasure. One step ahead, first he’d tease by withholding, and then lick him how and where he wanted, feeling his own cock twitch each time Dean surged up or made a sound of pleasure. “I think you were made for me,” he whispered, running his hands over Dean’s chest, loving his every reaction... the way his flat male nipples tightened under his palms, the way his muscles rippled.

He followed the trails left by hands with his mouth... licking, nipping him, and then soothing him with kisses. He took pleasure in every ridge and valley of the muscles stretched taut across Dean’s abs, and then he lifted his head and looked down at his cock, straining and rock hard, his balls drawn up tight against his shaft.

His mind was suddenly swamped with memories of the dream. How he’d been so deep inside Dean, he didn’t know where he started and where Dean ended. And how Dean had come hard against his belly, God he wanted that again... wanted it so bad that the ache between his legs was starting to intensify.

* * *

He’d never imagined it could possibly be this good. Feel so amazing. Even the dream, the closest Dean had come to feeling really loved, now seemed pale in comparison.

Samuel was so hot. So hard. Thrusting between his lips, and he couldn’t help but moan in pleasure right along with him. Feeling drunk on the sensations flowing through him. Between them. Feeling Samuel coming undone so quickly because of what he was doing to the angel was intoxicating. Gave him such a sense of pride and power he knew it had to be sinful, but he didn’t care.

His own cock was aching and leaking without even being touched. Just from being able to feel the pleasure he was giving to his lover… oh god… his lover… Samuel. When Samuel finally found release, practically screaming his name, Dean could only whimper in ecstasy at the almost overwhelming pleasure and love they both shared. Swallowing down his lover’s hot seed greedily. Refusing to let a drop spill from his lips.

It was with near regret he finally let Samuel slip from his mouth, staring up at the angel with a smile, breathing heavily, definitely pleased with himself. Though he thought he should have felt a little embarrassed by the way his heart fluttered like a girl’s at Samuel’s words, calling him beautiful, but he was far too distracted by Sam’s mouth covering his. The angel kissing him slowly and deeply, and Dean groaned with unmistakable longing. Feeling his cock throb just a little more knowing Samuel could taste himself in his mouth.

He didn’t resist in the least when the angel pushed him back gently, laying relaxed, completely willing and eager for his lover’s touch. “Please…” He managed to whisper before Samuel was crawling over him and Dean once more felt humbled by the sheer beauty on display before him. Yeah, maybe he really was a girl. But right now he hardly cared.

Like the angel’s touch had once erased the hurtful feeling of rough unforgiving hands on his skin, Samuel’s every caress, his love, made him forget about all the pain he’d ever known in his life. The kisses on his face, down his body. The touch of warm gentle fingers across his flesh, followed by a hot wet tongue made him whimper and moan and arch wantonly beneath the angel’s touches. Accepting every one for the perfect gift it was.

_I think you were made for me._ Oh god, how he wished that were true. That he had been meant for Samuel all along. That everything that had ever happened in his life was only to lead him to this perfect moment.

“Yes… god Samuel…” Dean whimpered, clutching at the angel’s shoulders, feeling like he was burning up underneath the heat of the desire in the angel’s eyes. Knowing what Sam wanted even without the flood of images from their dream making him ache deep inside from wanting so much. “Make me yours… please…”

* * *

The request drew a primal response from Sam, making him reel with the need to possess Dean in every way, to brand him as his. “You already are,” he answered, his voice brooking no argument from any quarter. The angel had made up his mind.

Slipping his arms under Dean’s knees, he pulled him closer to the edge of the bed and set his legs over his shoulders. _We’re not prepared for me to be inside you the way I want, but you won’t know the difference, I swear it._

Looking down at Dean’s cock, he ran his thumb up and down his shaft, and dipped his head down to lick off the small drop of cum at his tip. As pleasure... Dean’s... coursed through him, he teased and touched and tasted his slit, coaxing Dean to leak again, just for him. He ran his hand up and down his shaft, so hard, and yet silky smooth, so irresistible. Widening his mouth, he took Dean’s blunt tip inside, molding his mouth around him as he sucked and released, and sucked again.

Each time a sound broke from Dean, Sam found himself tensing... needing... dying to hear it again, like he was addicted to his lover’s sounds of pleasure. _You make me crazy and very unangelic._ He took almost all of Dean deep into his throat, and squeezed the base of his cock as he moved up and down, creating an excruciating friction that swept both of them up into a sea of intensifying need. With single minded determination, he brought both of them to the very edge over and over again, feeding Dean’s pleasure and making it his, concentrating on coming back from the edge and taking Dean with him. It went on and on, until he didn’t know his own name, or Dean’s, until he was burning up and feverish, until all he was aware of was the endless storm of emotions washing back and forth between them.

A hunger was building deep inside him, ratcheting up, winding him tighter and tighter until he couldn’t fight the need to find release any longer. Pulling his mouth off Dean’s cock, he shrugged his legs off his shoulders and crawled back up his body. Dean was so flushed, his eye were so dark and unfocused... he looked like he’d been fucked for hours.

Thinking of the harsh word jarred Samuel for a fraction of a second where he saw the image of Dean looking into a dingy bathroom mirror as a paying client did with him what he wanted. His face was blank, not at all like how he looked right now.

“No,” the angel growled, aligning their cocks, melding their bodies together. “You’re mine now... mine,” he slanted his mouth over Dean’s and gave him a blistering kiss, branding him with his mouth, and with his body, with every thrust, and every moan, with every image he sent of himself penetrating deep inside Dean, as he had in the dream. _Mine only, as I am yours._  


* * *

Dean’s eyes widened a little at the sheer possessiveness of the angel’s words. The almost hard edge in Samuel’s voice and expression would have been scary if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. Damn if it didn’t make him even hotter. More desperate.

“Yes, please…” The young man whimpered, his breath hitching in his throat when the angel tugged him down to the edge of the bed, pushing up his knees. His heart hammering against his ribs in excitement knowing how wide and open he was to his lover. Samuel able to see every part of him so intimately.

Though when Samuel said they couldn’t be together because they weren’t prepared, Dean whimpered loudly in protest that. He wanted to tell Sam he didn’t care if they weren’t ‘prepared’. He didn’t care if it hurt a little, he wanted to feel him so badly. He needed it so much… But a second later he was barely able to think, because the angel was touching his cock skillfully. Stroking him teasingly, licking away the come that leaked from his tip, and all Dean could do was writhe and moan incoherently.

“Sam… oh god… Sam!” He panted, his fingers tangling in his lover’s hair his hips bucking up into the wet scorching heat surrounding him. His brain feeling like it was short circuiting from pleasure when Samuel began sucking on his cock, bringing him to the edge. Taking him even deeper into his mouth, into his throat. Holding him still despite how he desperately tried to thrust deeper, seeking release, instead held right there on the razor’s edge where pleasure almost became pain.

_I’m not complaining…_ Dean managed to send with a short mental laugh before he lost the ability to think completely. He could only lie there, letting his lover play his body like a well tuned instrument. Cry out Samuel’s name over and over, his body pushed to the brink of endurance, until he thought he might just go insane from the pleasure being fed back and forth between them.

Practically screaming in agony when Samuel’s mouth left him. Reaching for and clutching at his lover blindly, his fingers digging brutally into the angel’s shoulders as Samuel’s body covered him and pressed him down into the mattress. He was so far gone he missed the sudden change in the angel’s expression completely. All he knew was he needed Sam, so badly. He needed to find release, he was so hard, so ready to come it was torture.

_Yes… yours… only yours… only ever yours…_ Dean repeated over and over as they rocked together, mouths devouring each other with the need to get closer. Body and soul. Thrusting hard up against his lover’s body, fitting together perfectly. Whimpering and moaning at the incredible flood of pleasure crashing into him in waves. He could almost feel Samuel inside of him now, claiming him. Owning him, exactly the way they both wanted. Threatening to drown him, and he held onto Samuel even tighter to keep from being washed away. Feeling like the angel’s arms were the only think keeping him from flying apart at the seams as every muscle in his body suddenly drew taunt. His body jerking almost violently as he cried out Samuel’s name so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke the dead. Coming harder than he had in his life, spilling his seed hot and wet between their moving bodies.

* * *

Words... promises echoed back and forth as they claimed each other. Dean’s shout took the angel over the edge so hard, he gave a strangled cry, tightening his hold as he rode the last waves of climax, mingling his sperm with Dean’s. Brushing his mouth one more time over swollen lips, he lifted his head and looked down at his lover.

He should say something profound, probably, but he was spent. And everything he’d had to say had been said over and over. “I think we did that right.” Giving a rueful smile, he added. “You know how you read your auto magazines to me for practice? Centuries ago, there was this male courtesan. He used read scrolls and scrolls about techniques.”

Dean’s expression had Sam laughing, as he rolled off and lay on his back. His chest was still heaving and his heart wasn’t under control yet, but now he knew what it felt like to be completely happy and satiated. He put one hand on Dean’s chest, stroking him lightly as his eyes grew heavy.

* * *

Dean was actually amazed that Samuel still had the power to speak at all, when he felt like he could barely form a thought after feeling Samuel’s pleasure surge through their bond, joining with his own as the angel’s hot semen bathed his stomach. Oh god… Dean was sure he’d never felt so hot and… dirty, at the same time almost purified.

He managed a short laugh almost indistinguishable from his other rapid breaths and nod of agreement as he tried to regain control over his breathing and too fast pulse. Though when Samuel mentioned the courtesan and ‘naughty’ scrolls, the mental picture almost made his eyes bug out of his head.

_You didn’t even want to watch Queer as Folk with me._ Dean complained half heartedly, though he was still smiling from ear to ear and with damn good reason he thought. Almost purring blissfully at how Samuel caressed his chest, every inch of his skin still feeling so sensitive.

Dean closed his eyes and covered Samuel’s hand on his chest with his own, twining their fingers together. Allowing himself to drift, feeling like he was floating in warmth and happiness, and he briefly wondered if this was what heaven felt like, and if it didn’t, then heaven was really overrated.


	9. Chapter 9

All night long, they'd reached for each other and made love again and again. Twice in the shower. Samuel learned he really liked touching Dean when he was wet and slippery. Course once Dean had found that out, he'd made Sam explode with imagines of himself with water dripping down his skin, making him slick and shiny. It was sheer torture, and Sam loved every minute of it.  


  
By morning, he'd tasted every inch of Dean. Knew exactly where he liked to be touched and how hard. He knew that when they faced each other and jacked each other off, he always held the image of the first time Samuel had touched him like that in his mind. He knew the words Dean liked to hear in his mind, and how the word 'mine' affected him... both of them. And he knew that his achilles heel would always be Dean, from this day forward. He didn't care.

He'd been about to pull Dean into his arms when he felt a presence. Gabriel was coming. Quickly, he slipped out of bed and got dressed. By the time he had coffee brewing, the was a soft knock on the door.

He crossed the living room and opened it, letting Gabriel inside. "Good morning."

"Samuel." Gabriel's eyes swept the room, "where is _he_?"

"Dean? He's still asleep." When he saw Gabriel look at the clock, he added. "He had a hard night."

"We all did."

Samuel nodded. "Thank you for the rescue. I..."

"What were you thinking Samuel? Cain, you went after Cain alone?"

There was a cold fury in Gabriel's expression but Sam knew it was because the angel cared, and he'd given them all a scare. "I had no time. I thought I could call you when I found him, but he moved too fast."

"Or you were too distracted."

Sam quirked a brow. "Distracted how?"

"Your ward seems to be taking up a lot of your time."

"Less and less, lately. He's becoming more independent. And you've got to admit, he helped us last night. Coffee?" He started heading for the kitchen, and was grateful he wasn't looking at Gabriel when the other angel made his accusation.

"He was kissing you, last night. You didn't stop him."

"He was scared, and relieved. He needed reassurance."

"Reassurance is a pat on the head."

"Not for him." Sam set the coffee mugs down on the coffee table.

"He was taking advantage of your good nature. He was--"

Sam suddenly put his arms around Gabriel and gave him a strong hug, trying to sooth and calm him. "He needed what he took, the same way as you need this. I'm fine, I'm alive," he smiled as he felt Gabriel's arms close around him. "You're not rid of me yet." After a few minutes, he brushed Gabriel's mouth with his and pulled away, very cognizant of the fact the other angel hadn't wanted to let him go.

"Do you love him," Gabriel demanded.

"of course."

"Samuel..."

* * *

Dean woke up slowly to the smell of coffee brewing from the kitchen, and of sex and Samuel still clinging to his skin.

Smiling the young man buried his face into warm pillow, inhaling deeply his lover’s scent, and thought how he’d never slept so well in his entire life… when the angel had finally let him sleep, that was. It had actually been just after dawn before he’d finally gone to sleep. After the angel had made love to him for the… he’d actually lost count how many times. So achingly slow it was near torture, that he simply couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer and drifted off almost immediately after his release.

Dean chuckled a little to himself. He had little doubt that Samuel would tease him endlessly about it at the first opportunity. Remembering how he’d teased the angel for being so insatiable, thousands of years of sexual repression, after all, and how Sam had tried to suck his brains out through his cock after that. He almost couldn’t wait.

Once the floodgates had been opened, it seemed neither one of them felt sated for very long before the need for each other would begin to build again. In fact his body was already complaining how it had woken up without his lover’s warmth pressed against him, and he felt himself reaching across their bond sleepily to encourage Samuel to forget about silly things like coffee and to come back to bed.

Though when he picked up a different kind of tension over their link, slight though it was, Dean forced himself to wake up more. Now that he was paying more attention, he heard the voices in the living room, Samuel talking to someone. It took only a second more for his brain to register the second voice as one of the angel’s from last night. Gabriel.

_Is everything alright?_ Dean sent cautiously as he sat up and slipped out of the bed. Finding his jeans on the floor, glad they were at least dry now, even if they were a little uncomfortable to slip on, stiff with sea salt. But it was better than walking out of Samuel’s room naked.

He was just in time to catch the end of the hug shared between the two angels. The kiss, brief though it was, making him frown and igniting a hot spark of jealously in his heart. He knew they had to keep what was between them a secret, especially from the other angels, but why did Samuel have to kiss him… especially when it was obvious to him that Gabriel wanted more than a kiss from Sam.

“Sorry, am I interrupting? I smelled coffee.” Dean blurted out, cutting into the conversation. Forcing a smile to his lips, playing ‘oblivious’ which he was certain he didn’t have to fake too hard, since Gabriel thought he was an imbecile anyway.

* * *

Gabriel’s hackles rose at the sight of the half dressed insolent young man he’d met last night. His eyes narrowed as his gaze slid over Dean’s face. The kid looked like he’d just gotten everything he’d wanted, sort of tired, his hair a mess, his mouth... His gaze swung to Sam.

Sam shrugged. “He needs his coffee in the morning.” Sensing some sort of rebellion, or something stirring, he mentally added to Dean, _whatever you’re about to say, don’t._

“He looks—“

“Gabriel, sit down, have some coffee. Or if you want, you’re welcome to stay for breakfast. Pancakes?”

“You cook for him.”

“I like to eat,” his lips quirked. “And I have this chocolate syrup, it’s to die for.” His love of chocolate was legendary, and he wanted to divert Gabriel’s attention off Dean.

“You waste your efforts on him.”

“Gabriel.” There was a flash of black in Samuel’s eyes. He waited for Dean to disappear into the kitchen for the coffee, and he looked back at the other angel. “He is my guest, he is my ward, I won’t allow him to be treated this way. Not in my house.”

“He’s a guttersnipe. You found him whoring,” he whispered hotly.

Sam hid a flinch. “He lost his way. He’s growing up overnight... he’s been locked up and he has a right to make his mistakes.”

“But he’s...”

“Worth it. If not him, who? That’s what we’re here for. If you want to handpick your wards from prep schools, and celebrities, that is your choice. Not mine.”

When Dean came back out, Gabriel’s eyes were distinctly hostile. “He wants you.”

“How many humans want you?” Then lower, he added. “It’s not a crime to want someone.” Their gazes locked.

Gabriel understood then that Samuel knew. All this time, he’d been oblivious. He’d let him hold him, let him curl around him when they rested after a battle, but he’d never realized. Why did he know now. There was only one reason.

He got up abruptly. “If you think he’s better looking than Raphael, then _something_ has blinded you.”

As the door slammed shut behind Gabriel, Samuel let out a breath. “One innocent comment, and now everyone is repeating it. I’m going to strangle Michael.”

* * *

Dean could tell he’d pissed Gabriel off just by his presence alone, and the young man felt a strange sense of pride in that. Meeting the angel’s gaze defiantly. A small smirk pulling at his lips the way he was being studied. He could practically see the wheels turning in Gabriel’s head, and even knowing how they had to keep what they’d done a secret, he couldn’t deny how trilling it would be to confirm to the jerk just how much Samuel was his now.

Though when he heard Samuel’s ‘warning’ in his head, the young man backed down, just a little. Plastering a more neutral expression on his face for the moment, though giving a mental groan he didn’t bother hiding from Sam when he invited the other angel to stay for breakfast.

Dean had started considering all the fun they could have with that chocolate syrup if Gabriel wasn’t around, and started to hint as much over their bond, before Gabriel’s words hit him like a slap.

_You waste your efforts on him._

A part of him was angry, pissed off even and he didn’t bother to hide it, but another part, the part still insecure about his own worth even after everything, couldn’t help but whisper, what if Gabriel was right? What if Samuel was wasting his time with him? Who the hell was he anyway, to think he was worth having Sam…

Samuel’s suddenly cold tone, one Dean had thankfully only heard a couple of times, and not directed at him this time, convinced him it was probably time he left. Giving one last hateful glare to the other angel before he went into the kitchen. Getting himself some coffee, even though he wasn’t really thirsty right now, it gave him something to do. Trying not to think about Gabriel’s words, or the doubts they’d raised in him.

Damn him…

When he returned to the living room, they were still arguing. Dean’s eyes met the angel’s with just as much hostility. Refusing to back down. A smirk curving his lips when Samuel called Gabriel on his own ‘wants’ and the angel finally stormed out.

“That guy’s an asshole.” Dean muttered, putting his mug down as he came up behind Sam. Pressing himself against his lover’s back and wrapping his arms around his waist. Brushing a soft kiss to the side of the angel’s neck before grinning playfully.

“I think I need to meet this guy, if he’s really that hot. See what all the fuss is about…” He teased.

* * *

Sam had been standing ramrod straight as he watched Gabriel’s angry exit, but once he felt Dean’s arms around him, he relaxed and leaned back, making a soft sound in response to the brush of Dean’s mouth along the side of his neck. “Don’t call him an asshole, he’s on of the greatest angels that have walked the earth.”

He twisted around, and pulled Dean closer. “I forbid you to meet him, everyone falls for him.” Then he really looked at Dean and understood the what ‘looks thoroughly fucked’ meant, and groaned. “No wonder he’s suspicious, look at you. Next time... stop me after the third time, hmm?” Laughing against Dean’s lips, he kissed him. “Good morning. Come help me make breakfast, and no... you can’t stay home in bed.”

* * *

Dean rolled his eyes at Samuel's comment regarding Gabriel, glad that the angel was turned away from him and didn't see it, or he might really get scolded. Yeah, well maybe the jerk was a great angel or whatever, what did he know? But he was still an asshole.

Though when Sam turned around, holding him close, and forbidding him to meet Raphael the young man couldn't help but laugh softly.

_I don't think you have anything to worry about._ Dean reassured, moaning against the angel's lips before laughing softly.

"Stop you? Now, why would I want to do that?" The young man asked with a raised eyebrow before pouting playfully, letting his hands roam up underneath the angel's shirt.

"No? But I could make it really worth your while…" Dean replied, grinning as he tempted the angel with a mental image of them lying naked in bed together and licking chocolate syrup off of Samuel's chest.

* * *

Sam’s stomach tightened under the Dean’s palms, stroking him, leaving hot trails over his skin and making his breath catch. Then he was seeing Dean’s sensuous mouth on his chest, his tongue flicking out and curling as it stole a little chocolate syrup at a time.

“My two favorite things. You, and chocolate,” he groaned. “But... we’re not getting into bad habits, hmm?” It would be too easy, Dean could take him down any slippery slope, he knew that full well now. “We both have work to do, and there’s the weekend for...” He laughed, “I can’t believe I’m even thinking of staying in bed all day. You... you’re a bad influence.”

Opening his mouth, he covered Dean’s in a heated kiss, drawing him up hard against his frame. _Maybe once more, in the shower... after breakfast._

By the time he walked into the kitchen, he was breathless. He tried to concentrate on cooking, making sure the pancake batter was smooth, but every once in a while he’d catch a thought from Dean that made him knock something over, or drop something. His glares seemed to have absolutely no effect. “Gabriel’s right. You’re a spoiled brat.” He turned, and stopped midstride, finding Dean sitting on the counter with his thighs wide open, legs swinging.

* * *

“You don’t have enough bad habits.” Dean sighed, though he couldn’t help feeling more than a little proud when Samuel called him a bad influence. Moaning softly into his lover’s mouth, pouting a little when the kiss ended, but he let the angel go, following Samuel into the kitchen.

_I’m holding you to that promise._

He couldn’t help grinning in amusement. Hopping up onto the counter as he watched Sam cook. Mostly undressing the angel with his eyes and thinking about everything he’d like to do, pretending innocence every time a thought would ‘accidentally’ leak over their bond.

His smile only widening when Samuel finally ‘noticed’ him. Tilting his head to the side ‘innocently’ even as he let his legs slide apart a little further.

“I thought you were making breakfast?”

* * *

Mesmerized, Samuel’s gaze swept over Dean’s swinging legs, lingered at his groin and enjoyed the view all the way up until he was brought back to earth by the mischief in those irresistible green eyes. “Hmm... what?” Blinking, he realized that smell meant he was burning the pancakes.

“You... you could distract a saint,” he grumbled, turning to repair the damage, and make more. “And I think we already established I am no saint. Hmmm... see how those two things go together?”

He could practically hear a mental laugh from his ward. “Make yourself useful. Get plates... and don’t you dare,” he added, just knowing Dean had something up his sleeve. “And stop staring at my ass... who’s the insatiable one now.”

Forcing himself to concentrate, he efficiently finished and was carrying the plates toward the living room when he all but bumped into Dean in the doorway. Their eyes met, and current flowed strong between them. “Oh God... I am not mooning over you all day... no matter what.” With long strides, he put some distance between them and put the food on the table.

* * *

  
_Your so suspicious._ Dean sent as hopped off of the counter with a laugh, letting himself have one last eyeful despite Samuel’s ‘objection’ of him staring at his ass before he did as he was told. Getting a couple of plates and silverware and bringing them to the table. Giving the angel time to finish making them breakfast if only because he was rather hungry, and he needed to keep up his energy if nothing else if he was going to keep up with Sam.

The young man was still grinning from ear to ear as he made his way back towards the kitchen for glasses and drinks only to almost run into Samuel in the doorway. Both of them stopping short when their eyes met and Dean could practically feel sparks fly. The heat radiating off of the angel’s body, soaking into him, and making his jeans feel tighter than they should be.

He couldn’t help but laugh again as the angel’s words as Samuel pushed past him.

“Moo! Stop acting like you don’t like it.” He ‘complained’, still giggling as he followed closely behind Samuel. Waiting at least until the angel had put down the plates of food before he slapped Samuel’s ass sharply and then ran around to the other side of the table with a laugh.

“Besides, it’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands off of me.”

* * *

“Dean!” The angel’s sharp protest at getting smacked in the ass was lost in laughter as Dean made a quick escape. “You know I can fly right across this table, right?” Giving a mock warning, Samuel sat down and started to pour chocolate syrup over his pancakes, leaving the maple on the side.

Breakfast conversation was filled with innuendo and flirting, some of which made the heat rise to Samuel’s cheeks. In his long life, he’d heard it all, had received propositions that were unbelievable, but it had been easy not to react when he wasn’t interested. This was different. It was way too easy for Dean to get his heart pounding, and the his ward not only knew it, he was taking advantage of it.

Sam successfully retaliated, but it blew up in his face… the feelings flooding between them through their mental link raising the temperature. Clearing his throat, he pushed the newspaper toward Dean. “Here. Read to me.” He picked up his coffee and found his gaze drawn to Dean’s thumb moving toward his mouth. Oh no, here it came. As Dean licked every last drop of syrup off this thumb and index finger, Sam called himself all sorts of fool for making pancakes for breakfast. Cereal… clearly today was a day that called for plain cereal!

* * *

Dean gave a sigh as the angel stubbornly refused to rise to his baiting. Pouting a little when the angel simply sat down to eat his breakfast with his chocolate syrup instead. Damn chocolate. He couldn’t really be jealous of chocolate syrup could he? Maybe he’d have to hide it later… or find a better use for it.

The young man chose the maple for his own pancakes, practically flooding his plate with plenty of the sticky syrup and drowning his poor pancakes in it. Taking great pleasure from the heat that flooded his lover’s eyes as they flirted back and forth and every time his tongue darted out to lick some of the sticky sweetness that left a drop on the corner of his lips or his fingers.

He pulled his finger out of his mouth with a pop and a grin.

“I’d much rather you take me into the bathroom and fuck my brains out.” Dean said as Sam took a sip from his coffee.

* * *

The sucking... popping sound brought a flood of memories from last night. Time seemed to stop as Sam practically relived the sensations of Dean’s mouth moving over him... licking, sucking, nipping. His stomach clenched, and he was almost breathless right there at the breakfast table.

Timing... it was all a matter of timing. Dean’s outrageous statement had Sam losing his fork, and letting it clatter onto his plate. His eyes laser focused on his naughty ward, who looked as innocent as if he’d asked how the weather was... as if he wasn’t wreaking having with Samuel’s senses.

That did it. The angel broke. Consumed by a fiery hunger he could not control, he stood up and strode around the table, all hints of softness gone from his visage. Towering over Dean, eyes dark and hungry, he took in every inch of his lover’s masculine form, before drawing him up out of his seat and dragging him up hard against his frame. “Be careful what you wish for,” he finally answered, crushing his mouth down against Dean’s.

His blood thickened. His hormones raged for Dean, for all of him, body and soul. Every slide of his palms along Dean’s bare back, his waist, his throat, had Samuel craving more, and more, until his head was pounding with need. “Legs around me,” he snapped, lifting Dean up, and groaning as his rock hard erection collided against the unmistakable bulge in Dean’s jeans.

By the time he carried Dean to the bathroom and set him down on the sink counter, he’d forgotten everything, everyone, but the man in his arms. As he marked Dean with searing kisses along the column of his throat, and his chest, his hands moved equally possessively to undo his jeans. _I won’t give you up. Not for Gabriel, not for laws we’re breaking, and not for God. Not ever, Dean. Not ever._  


* * *

The way Samuel was looking at him made Dean’s heart rate speed up. Not nervousness, but excitement coiling in his stomach, heat pooling into his groin. There was nothing all that gentle about the way the angel was looking at him now. If he didn’t know better, if he didn’t trust Sam with his life and more, he might have been afraid of the strength of the hunger, desire, possession, in the angel’s eyes.

For me… only for me…

The young man’s moan as Samuel pulled him up hard against the angel’s muscular body was lost in his lover’s mouth. The kiss almost brutal, but wonderful. Wild. Uncontrolled. He wrapped his arms tightly around the angel’s shoulders. His fingers digging into the powerful muscles as their tongues dueled for dominance, lust singing strong through his whole body, only growing hotter as he opened his mind to feel Samuel’s as well.

The same. Exactly the same. Like two pieces of the same puzzle they fit together perfectly. Dean whimpered softly as Samuel lifted him easily, and eagerly did as he was told. Clinging to the angel as Sam carried him effortlessly into the bathroom. Arching and rubbing his body against the angel’s as well as he could, their lips never parting for more than a single breath.

Until Samuel set him down, his hot mouth leaving trails of fire down the length of his neck and Dean whimpered again as he arched his back, tilting his head to give the angel all the access he wanted to every part of him. His fingers sliding into Samuel’s hair, holding the angel’s mouth close to him.

“Oh God, Samuel…” Dean groaned, tightening his legs around Samuel, trying to bring him closer even though he knew it would make getting his jeans off a little difficult. _Was always yours. Always. I prayed for you. All my life. I didn’t even realize what I was praying for. Until you came._  


* * *

Just when he’d thought it wouldn’t be possible to get any closer to his lover, Dean’s mental declaration seemed to bind them inexorably together. His mind surged, merging completely with Dean’s until it was hard to tell where one started and the other ended. Words became unnecessary. There was nothing truer than the emotions that ebbed and flowed between them, or the fire they ignited within each other.

Mouth still melded to Dean’s, Sam made short work of opening Dean’s pants, grinding against him one more time before stepping slightly back and forcing Dean to unlock his legs so he could peel the jeans off. Less than a fraction of a second later, Dean was wrapped around him again, rubbing so hard, his skin had to be raw. “Dean, for the love of...”

Pulling away again, this time not allowing Dean to follow, Samuel stripped. Panting slightly, he drank in the sight of Dean, so hungry... so needy, as if they hadn’t had enough, as if they hadn’t made love all night long. Stretching out his arm, he caught Dean who hopped off the counter.

Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, legs restless and sliding together, they made it into the shower. Hot water rained over them, warming Sam’s already overheated skin. Closing his arms around Dean’s waist, he pulled him close, letting him feel the urgent demands of his body. He was consumed by hunger, by the need to fuck Dean’s brain out... like his irreverent ward had suggested.

* * *

Dean’s whimper of protest when Samuel forced him to release his legs around him changed to a laugh at his lover’s frustration when he immediately clung to the angel again after Sam stripped him. But he just couldn’t help it. Any distance at all simply too much, even when Sam pushed him away for the few seconds it took for the angel to undress himself felt like agony.

But finally they were together once more, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, clutching each other tightly, not a single barrier between them. Pressed so tightly it seemed not even water could slip between their moving bodies, though somehow it did, allowing their slick flesh to slide together smoothly. The water caressing down over already over sensitive skin like a caress all its own, heightening every sensation.

The young man whimpered at the hard press of Sam’s erection, hot like a brand, burning against his skin. His fingers digging into his lover’s hard muscled buttocks as he rubbed himself against it, letting it slide against the contours of his stomach.

“Oh god, I want you inside me so bad…” Dean panted, his teeth nipping softly on the angel’s kiss swollen lip, soothing away any sting immediately with his tongue. Maybe that’s why he was still burning, aching, even after last night making love to Samuel all night long. Because he wanted to feel the angel’s fingers deep inside him, stretching him open for a larger intrusion. Allowing Samuel into his body, god he would fill him up so completely it would ache, but he wanted that ache. Wanted it to prove he was Samuel’s now. Wanting to forget the feeling of whoever had him before…

But he couldn’t have it. Not yet. Samuel had refused, until they got what they would ‘need’ to make it easier. Fuck, but he hated when the angel was right sometimes.

Dean groaned softly in frustration before he dropped to his knees in front of Samuel. He wasted no time opening his mouth to take his lover’s flesh as deeply as he could. Relaxing his throat when he felt the angel’s cock nudging at the back. Swallowing and sucking, his lips tight as they slid up and down the length of his lover’s shaft. His hands braced on Sam’s hips squeezing and encouraging the angel to fuck into his mouth as deeply as he wanted.

* * *

“I know you do, I want it too,” Samuel murmured against Dean’s lips. “Tonight... tonight will be perfect.” As far as he was concerned, last night had been. Right now was perfect. Still, the need behind his lover’s frustrated groan sent his blood rushing straight to his cock.

A moment later, as if he realized how much Sam ached, Dean was on his knees and taking him inside the heat of his mouth. Throwing his head back and giving a strangled cry, Sam thrust his hips.

At Dean’s urging, he pushed in and out, watching his flesh disappear and reappear, and holy... he got so caught up in it, so tangled in the sensations slamming into him each time he sheathed himself in that enticing, irreverent, tempting mouth, that it was too late by the time he realized how hard he was riding Dean’s mouth. He was on fire and so out of control, so frenzied with need, all he could do was brace his hands against the tile walls and buck harder, forcing Dean to take as much of him as he could. “Oh ... Dean... so close, so close...”

He had to fight against the need to grab Dean’s head, to hold it in place as he fucked harder. His entire body clenched... Sam slapped his palm hard against the tile as his seed exploded deep inside Dean’s mouth. And slapped it again, as the waves of relentless pleasure started to recede.

Helping Dean up, he kissed his swollen mouth lightly, knowing he should have been gentler. _Don’t be afraid to push me away_ , though in truth, the thought of Dean afraid of him was laughable. Irritatingly so.

“Your turn,” he whispered thickly, dropping down to his own knees. He knew full well how his displays of strength affected Dean, he lifted him up, “Legs over my shoulders, both,” he said, giving a heated smile at the sound Dean made.

Once, Dean settled on his shoulders, Sam started to stand up, one hand pressing on Dean’s stomach so Dean’s back stayed firmly against the tile as he slid up. Closing his fist around the base of Dean’s cock, Sam licked its crown... tasting, kissing, sucking.... teasing...

* * *

Looking up at his lover through hooded eyes, Dean drank in the sounds of pleasure Samuel made. Feeling almost drunk, lightheaded, on the feelings he could feel coming from the angel while Sam fucked his mouth. Riding him so hard his jaw ached a little but he hardly cared right now. It felt so damn good. Knowing he could drive Samuel this far, to be this unrestrained, was its own turn on.

When the angel shouted, Samuel’s expression bordering almost on pain as he thrust deep into his throat, the young man’s heart skipped a beat. Like he was some kind of chick. But he certainly didn’t care, not right now, not while his lover’s cock slid so hot and hard between his lips. Fucking into his mouth without restraint. Pleasure, his own and Samuel’s, pumping through his veins like liquid fire, making him burn. Making him ache, he was so hard, his own cock heavy between his legs but he didn’t dare touch himself. Knowing he’d come within seconds from the overload of sensations.

When Samuel warned him, Dean relaxed his mouth and throat as much as he could. Taking the angel as deep as possible and swallowing several times as his lover came hard down his throat. Whimpering and moaning softly as he swallowed every drop that Samuel gave him. Only letting the angel’s softening flesh slip from his lips when Sam gently eased him away and helped him to his feet. Smiling and feeling a little weak in the knees for several reasons when the angel pulled him close and kissed him so tenderly, a sharp contrast to how he’d just rode him.

_I loved it. It was amazing._ He reassured, before his heart fluttered again embarrassingly as Samuel knelt down in front of him. Before it began to beat a little faster and harder against his ribs as he complied with the angel’s request. A small whimpering moan of pleasure escaping his lips in spite of himself and Samuel hadn’t even really touched him yet.

A louder gasp torn from his lips the way Samuel supported him easily as he lifted him up, the angel’s arms the only thing supporting him in fact besides the wall at his back. Despite feeling absolutely at the angel’s mercy he trusted Samuel completely.

“This is… creative…” He remarked, smirking a little, before he forgot how to speak entirely as the angel began to tease his cock with his lips and tongue. Toying with the crown and Dean tangled his fingers through the angel’s hair with a sharp cry of pleasure. “Oh god… Sam!”

* * *

  
_Not creative... scroll 9, part 28 of the scroll the courtesan used to read to me._ Sam’s heart lurched as he experienced Dean’s sudden inability to talk. Opening his mouth, he sucked Deans tip, making love to it with his tongue and drawing him in a little further with every swallow, and using his thumb to softly stroke the sensitive underside of that part of Dean’s cock still aching for entry.

Sam’s mouth never stopped, giving, receiving, tasting, learning and memorizing the taste of his lover all over again. He’d never get tired of this, of feeling the urgent thrusts in his mouth, of hearing the sounds coming from Dean. When his already husky voice went down an octave, it did things to the Angel’s insides... twisted him up in all sorts of knots.

When he finally sheathed Dean completely, he closed his mouth tight and pulled off, a shudder going through him as he felt the muscles under his palm on Dean’s belly clench and tighten. Sheathing him again, from root to tip, taking him all the way down so his cock bottomed out at his throat, he started to move up and down the length of Dean’s cock. God help him... God help him but he was going hard again, hard with need, hard with the thoughts of pleasuring his lover, of taking him again and again... of forgetting everything else...

* * *

Dean was caught between the urge to laugh and really wishing he could have thanked that courtesan right about now. But all he could do was moan over and over as Samuel took him a little further into his exquisite mouth.

With every suck, the angel’s fingers and tongue toying with his cock a little deeper each time, he felt himself come more undone. He couldn’t think. He could barely breathe. His muscles clenching and shaking with strain as he tried to thrust deeper into that sinful heat. His legs tightening on his lover’s shoulders, his head tossed back against the wet tile as he gasped helplessly, water running down his chest and abs. Wanting, needing more.

“Sam… Samuel… Yes, oh fuck… that’s good…” The young man groaned, his fingers clenching tight in the angel’s wet hair, before his lover took him all the way inside and Dean shouted loudly in pleasure. His body jerking so hard he was afraid for a moment he just might slip, but Samuel held him firmly. Not letting him go.

“Sam!” Dean cried out his lover’s name loud enough for anyone to hear as his muscles clenched. His balls drawing tight against the base of his cock as he thrust almost wildly with abandonment, all control lost. His whole body shuddering as he released into the angel’s mouth.

* * *

Every shudder, every cry, every needy thrust from Dean was experienced by Sam first hand, through their link. By the time Dean came, Sam was on the verge of internally combusting. He took everything Dean gave him, swallowing the jets of hot spunk, swallowing down his own moans, until he released Dean and slowly set him down.

Immediately, pulling him into his arms, Sam desperately rubbed his cock against him, against his thigh, his belly, nuzzling Dean’s throat as he released a second time. He was breathing hard, and trying to make his mouth work ... to speak. “I think we’re gonna need,” he paused and lifted his head to look at Dean. “Soundproofing.”

He was smiling a bit more smugly than was appropriate for an angel, but who said angels didn’t pick up habits from others? “Also, going to set the alarm an hour earlier. If this is any indication of how much time it will take us to get ready for work ...”

* * *

Dean felt almost embarrassingly weak and shaky by the time the angel set him on his feet, so he was more than grateful for several reasons when Samuel immediately drew him close again. Tilting his head back with a breathless moan as Sam nuzzled against his neck.

His arms wrapping tightly around the angel’s shoulders, fingers digging into the strong flexing muscles, holding tightly. Whimpering softly while Samuel rubbed against his over sensitive flesh, feeling the angel’s spikes of pleasure over their bond almost overwhelming after the release he’d just experienced.

The young man was left gasping right along with Samuel when he felt the hot splash of his lover’s seed against his stomach. Feeling completely relaxed, practically boneless, as he leaned into the angel’s strong body.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh softly however when Samuel mentioned they’d probably need soundproofing. Returning his lover’s overly pleased smile as he let his head come to rest comfortably on the angel’s shoulder. Closing his eyes with another blissful sigh.

“Sounds good to me.” He murmured against the angel’s skin. Kissing Sam’s neck softly. “Why can’t we just call in sick this once?”

* * *

“Because Angels are not lazy creatures unlike…” Samuel put his finger over Dean’s mouth, then prevented additional arguing with a deep kiss. He knew it probably wasn’t the end of it, but it was worth a try.

*

Separating had been a lot harder than Samuel anticipated. What was eight or nine hours, and they could talk over their link any time, he’d reassured Dean and watched him walk down the street toward Bobby’s garage. Turning the opposite way, Sam headed for one of the oldest, and now rare convents in the state.

The chapel was large, with beautiful stained glass windows imported from Italy. The floors were cold hard marble, and there were no knee rests. He felt right at home here, as he crossed himself and knelt in front of the alter. _Forgive me father, for I have sinned…_

Hours later, he left the chapel and was greeted by Sister Mary.

“You spent a lot of time in there, Samuel.” She put her hand on his arm as they walked.

“Even Angels need to, once in a while.” They stepped out into the inner courtyard. “The garden is lovely.”

“Yes it is,” she agreed. They walked among the rose bushes, and flowers, before entering the office. “The local hunters have almost used up our supply of holy water.”

He nodded. “I’ll take care of that. Do you have a list of those in need?”

“I _always_ have a list.” Pulling her drawer open, she gave him a pad. After he had a chance to review it, she asked, “will you be able to help some of them?”

“All of them,” he ripped the page off and folded it neatly, putting it in his pocket, very much aware of the sharp eyes still on him. “Please don’t ask.”

She didn’t need to ask, she was one of the few who could see angels in their true form. As soon as he turned, she saw the red staining his wings, and this was after his time on his knees. Usually, the few marks he had when he came in were gone… leaving his wings snow white, before he left. She didn’t say anything.

Sam made his way to the cellar and blessed the barrels of water. The amounts necessary might draw suspicion, if the convent made its requests of the church, so he performed the duty.

*

A hot flush crept up Samuel’s cheeks. He wouldn’t be surprised to be told the back of his neck was red as well. This was his first time… ever… in a sex shop, and yes, he realized how ironic it was that he’d just prayed for forgiveness for having had sex.

“Anything I can help you with sweetie? Anything,” the store owner asked.

Being followed around, or given too much attention was not an uncommon occurrence for angels, and Sam was used to it. But under these circumstances, he wished he’d sent Dean. Clearing his throat, he pulled away from the too friendly hand on his back. “N… no thanks, just looking.””

“Virgin?”

Samuel coughed again and looked around. “No. Really, I’m just looking around.” When the man didn’t leave, he put his hand on his shoulder, “thank you, I’ll let you know if I need help.”

“Okay… any kind, any time sweetie. You just say the word… just say the word, baby…. “ he was backing away, but his eyes were still glued to the handsome… no that was too weak a word… perfection standing before him, looking slightly confused and tugging on the collar of his tee shirt.

* * *

Dean had complained only a few more times after their shower about having to go to work. Not that he hadn’t always enjoy going to work at Bobby’s garage, it was just that he’d much rather spend the day with Samuel today.

The angel had nearly died last night, after all. Even thinking about it sent a cold shiver down the young man’s spine. Not to mention the weeks before when there had been so much unbearable distance between them… After all that one day wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

He’d argued, downright begged, but Samuel had refused to relent to his persuading and so the young man had been forced to give up with a sigh and rather unmanly round of pouting. Which the angel had thoroughly kissed away. His lover’s reassurances, and promises of what he might have to look forward to when he got home, leaving Dean grinning from ear to ear in spite of himself when Sam finally sent him off to Bobby’s.

He was still grinning by the time he got to the garage, a little flushed and breathless having to run half the way to get there on time, but even that didn’t dampen his mood. He was still smiling, even whistling, as he worked on a few cars. One of the older mechanics finally remarking on his good mood and he endured a round of good natured teasing over what could have put him into that mood. Dean refused to divulge any information, but he didn’t stop smiling either.

Around lunch time Bobby was showing him the finer points of rebuilding an engine when he felt a strange sense of nervousness filtering across their bond. Samuel was uncomfortable about something, there was no doubt about that, but the feeling was odd. If he didn’t know better he’d say it was embarrassment. Dean could honestly say he couldn’t remember Samuel being embarrassed about anything. Uncomfortable, sure, but not embarrassed.

_Everything all right?_ The young man sent almost cautiously over their link. Not knowing at the moment whether to feel more amused or concerned.

* * *

  
_What? Yeah... everything’s fine._ Samuel moved down the aisle, his blood pressure going up as he passed items that he’d never imagined, let alone seen.

Another salesman approached. “These are our best butt plugs, if you’re interested.”

Samuel jerked around, knocking some things down and hastily apologizing. “No, I’m not interested in... those look painful.”

“Oh not at all, you get used to them. Start small, and soon you’ll be graduating to—“

Sam raised his hand, “no... thanks... I’ll let you know,” he walked away. _I’m in hell. All I want is some lube. Not to ‘be lubed’ and not any of these... these scary things they’re selling._  


* * *

Dean tried to keep a straight face. He really did. But it was pretty much a lost cause from the moment Samuel said all he wanted was some lube, and a snort of laughter broke free from the young man.

Bobby, predictably looked at him like he was loony as a fruitcake, even though Dean tried to conceal it as a cough. But when the angel went on about ‘being lubed’ and all the ‘scary things’ complete with a mental picture he probably had no intention of sending Dean, he lost it completely.

He was left practically doubling over with laughter, holding his stomach and wiping tears away from his eyes while he gasped and tried to reassure Bobby he was fine and he wasn’t insane.

“I just… remembered something… I saw on TV. Sorry…” Dean ‘explained’ lamely, trying to control his laughter but failing miserably. Bobby merely rolled his eyes.

“Go get some lunch. We’ll pick this up later, you id’jit.” The older main said, trying to sound stern but Dean could see him trying to hold back a smile so Dean was relieved. The young man turned his attention back to Samuel as he walked out of the garage, still snickering.

_Just don’t get anything that will make me break out in a rash in unmentionable places._   


* * *

  
_Rash. That can happen? Are you allergic to any—_ Seeing the salesman eyeing him from the other end of the aisle, he turned on his heels and walked in the other direction, feeling distinctly like he was being ‘hunted.’ It was one thing to be admired at a grocery store or in line at a bank, and quite another when surrounded by alien looking devices all geared for insertion or for inserting ones self...

He could feel Dean’s amusement over the link and his mouth went into a flat line. He wasn’t the one who was on the spot. Seeing stacks of smaller boxes, he headed toward them and started reading. Massage oils, interesting flavors... he was hung up on the chocolate flavored one until he took a sniff of the sample and set it back quickly, wrinkling his nose.

Moving on, his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw a rather large plastic foot. Looking around to make sure no one was looking at him, he picked it up and almost dropped it when a strangely ick sensation traveled up his arm because the rubber was all gooey soft and squishy. He made the mistake of turning it over and gasped. “Good God, it has a mouth.” _Dean, they’re selling feet with mouth openings on the sole, I think I’m in the wrong place._ Dropping it, he started eyeing the door and heading for it.

* * *

Dean was already barely holding it together when Samuel started asking him about his allergies, but when he felt the angel’s abject horror over their bond, not to mention the description of what exactly had caused it, the young man lost it again.

Clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter at least a little as he made his escape, locking himself inside the bathroom, and collapsing against the door in a fit of rather unmanly giggles. He knew he probably looked like an idiot right now, hiding in the bathroom. But it was better than going into the lunch area, he could only imagine the odd stares from the other mechanics he’d probably get and he’d had more enough experience with people looking at him like he was insane, he didn’t need a reminder.

Now that he was alone, he allowed himself to sink a little deeper into their bond, like he’d done the first time Samuel had gone into battle, and when he’d helped Gabriel and Michael find Sam last night. Able to pick up more of what the angel was feeling, not to mention seeing, Dean was consumed by another wave of uncontrollable laughter.

Especially as the angel tried to make his escape.

_Hey, wait, where are you going? You promised you’d fuck me tonight. We need something. Just grab anything… or ask that guy for help._ Ok, maybe he was being just a little bit evil, but he couldn’t really help himself. Oh god, next time he definitely wanted to go with Samuel to this shop.

* * *

  
_I... alright._ Defeated, Samuel turned back, trying not to figure out what that rather big wet tongue flopping around on the display table was for. So many things looked like body parts, disembodied, and just plain creepy.

"You look like a big boy, maybe you could use something like this?" A voice from behind Samuel had him turning around so fast, he nearly knocked the person over. Then he looked at the thing in the guy's hand. "What for?" he made the mistake of asking as he tried to make out what the stick was for.

"Twenty inches of uncut hotness up your ass. I'll swear by it, stand behind it, show you how to use it if you like."

"What... no... twenty?"

"Twenty. Just get it all nice and lubed and man... this baby slides in and out like the real thing. You can even warm it up..."

"Twenty... real thing..." _Now I know what they mean when they say men have feelings of inadequacy. If I was twenty inches long, I wouldn't ... I mean it has to hurt and..._ He was quickly stepping away from the man, realizing the guy was just another customer, not even a salesperson.

Course that was when he backed straight into the real salesperson. "I just... really, I just want some lube," he whispered.

"Lube? Oh we have plenty of that."

Samuel cringed and wondered if the man thought whispering was a sin. Self-consciously, he followed him to the counter, where there were tubes and tubes of the stuff. "I want one that doesn't cause a rash."

"It's usually the condom that does that. You might be allergic to..."

"Oh, it's not me... it's..." Seeing the disbelief in the guy's eyes and wanting to cut this short, Sam nodded. "I'll take it."

"Which one?"

"All of them."

"All?"

"Uh hum, all." He had to stand there and listen to all sorts of speculation about orgies, and attempts to be invited, and he took it. Took it for Dean, because he'd promised. By the time he walked out the door with his brilliantly pink bag shouting 'Sex Shoppe' he was sure he matched its color.

* * *

By the time Samuel bought probably a year’s worth supply of lube and left the sex store Dean was having a difficult time breathing. Unable to keep his amusement from leaking over their bond, not even trying really, and knowing if he were a good boyfriend he probably shouldn’t be laughing like this at his lover’s misfortune, but he just couldn’t help himself.

What little guilt he had he assuaged by telling himself he’d make it up to Samuel later. Oh, boy, would he make it up to him in every way and position he could think of. Though that didn’t mean he couldn’t tease the angel mercilessly now.

_You do love me._ Dean sent with a soft mental laugh, if he were face to face with the angel right now he’d be batting his eyes playfully at Samuel. Though when he added the next part, the young man was glad that the angel happened to be across the city from him at the moment. _Though next time you might just want to check the drug store. Usually right next to the condoms._  


* * *

  
_Yes, yes, I can’t help but love you,_ Samuel answered, smiling at the mental image of his very immodest lover. Next, he almost expected Dean to give him a run down off all his assets and charms.

He was passing a drugstore when Dean made his revelation and came to a standstill. _They what?!_ Looking inside at all the nice, normal, non scary items and the non-aggressive salespeople, Samuel groaned. _You... you knew this, and you let me..._ His mouth went flat for a moment, though he couldn’t help if the corners quirked up. _Wait until you get home. I’m going to pull you over my knee and spank you. Maybe I should go back for those paddles they had..._  


* * *

  
_Promises. Promises._ Dean chuckled, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

A loud banging on the bathroom door, one of the other mechanics yelling at him to quit hogging the loo, and Dean knew playtime was over. He quickly splashed some water on his face, flushed for effect, and unlocked the door. Letting Don take his place he went back out into the garage, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from losing it and cracking up again.

_I should get back to work. See you at home._   


* * *

Sam was a bit miffed his threat had backfired. He should learn by now, he really should. _You are incorrigible,_ he huffed over their link, sensing that it only added to Dean’s amusement.

It was a good thing Dean went back to work, because the Angel didn’t have a prayer of winning an argument or getting the upper hand today, it seemed. It was a good thing he had a sense of humor, and did not share his brethren's sense of self importance. Very good.


	10. Chapter 10

  
Dean carried several bags of trash out the back entrance of the garage, tossing them into the dumpster there, glad that the day was finally over. Normally he almost lost track of time when he was working in the garage but today he couldn't help but notice how the hours dragged by. Because he couldn't stop thinking about going home to Samuel, the angel waiting for him, with plenty of lube to boot.   


  
The young man chuckled to himself at that last thought, tossing the last plastic bag into the dumpster and wiping off his hands. He started to head inside when something made him stop in his tracks. A familiar cold feeling washing over him right before he heard a terrified scream.

Almost before he knew what he was doing, Dean was running down the back alleyway towards the sound of the scream. He didn't stop to think, because someone was in trouble. Knowing he was going in the right direction when the horrible feelings of cold and _wrong_ only grew worse. 

When he finally saw the demon towering over two girls he didn't stop to think. Grabbing the first thing he could lay his hands on from a pile of trash, a sturdy plank of wood, he swung it as hard as he could. Smashing it over the demon's head. Causing it to stagger but not fall. At least it had turned its attention away from the girls, of course, now it was pissed off and looking right at him.

"Run!" He yelled at the girls and thankfully they didn't ask questions. The demon advanced on him, shrieking bloody murder, and Dean figured now would probably be a good time to call Samuel for help. But he didn't get the chance.

"Dean! Duck!" A familiar voice shouted from behind him and the young man instinctively obeyed. Dropping out of the demon's reach as a glass bottle smashed in the creatures face. The thing screaming in pain now as its deformed skin hissed and bubbled sickeningly. Dean crawled back from the thing as a second bottle smashed against the demon's chest. Trying not to be sick from the horrible smell of sulfur mingled with burning rotting flesh.

"Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei…" Dean turned to look at Bobby in awe, watching the older man as he recited the exorcism chant that Samuel had made Dean repeat before. The young man recognized it immediately even though he didn't remember all the words. Holding out some kind of medallion towards the demon as though it were a shield as he chanted. The creature screeching louder, making his ears ring, until it finally melted into the ground in a puddle of black and red flames.

Dean continued to stare at Bobby with wide eyes as the older man finished the chant.

"Bobby?" He had so many questions he didn't even know where to begin but the elder man merely shook his as he came over to him and dragged him up off the ground.

"What the hell were you thinking, boy! Trying to go up against a demon alone? Samuel is going to tan your hide if he finds out. Hell, I might just do it myself. I swear, sometimes I think you've got no brains at all! Let's go." Bobby was grumbling angrily as he dragged him along by the collar of his shirt back towards the garage. 

Dean ignored the insult for now. He was too busy reeling over all the implications of what Bobby said, not to mention what he'd just seen.

"Wait a second? You know about Samuel? And Demons? How the hell did you do that? Bobby?" He grilled the older man all the way back to the garage, and then ignored Bobby's orders to just go home and stay out of trouble. Refusing to leave until the older man answered his questions. 

Bobby finally sat him down, telling him that yes, he knew about Samuel and he knew about demons too because he was a hunter. A retired hunter, anyway. He told him how several years ago Samuel had saved his life when a 'job' had gone bad and that's how he met the angel. No, it hadn't been demons, but something else. There were apparently a lot of things out there that went 'bump in the night' from your worst nightmares, things people didn't believe in anymore. There weren't nearly enough angels in the world to get them all, and some humans, hunters like Bobby, killed them, helping keep innocent people safe.

By the time Dean started asking how someone became a hunter, Bobby apparently had enough of answering questions. Telling him not to even think about it, practically pushing him out the door, and ordering him to go home. Reminding him it was late and Samuel would be worried.

Of course, Dean couldn't stop thinking about it. But it wasn't until he got half way home did he realized exactly what he was thinking. That he wanted to learn how to become a hunter.    


* * *

Everything was perfect. The dinner table was set, the candles were lit, and dinner was almost ready. But Dean was late. Looking out the window, Samuel saw it was dark and gave an audible sigh. Maybe for a split second he remembered what it was like only a couple of days ago. The avoidance, the coming home late... the hardly speaking. But just a brush of Dean’s mind told him everything was alright, that there were no barriers meant to keep him out, no cold empty feeling. Dean was just late... that was all.

Crossing the room, he sat down near the bay window, and turned a lamp on. Then started shuffling through boxes, and information pamphlets. This was definitely better... in the privacy of his own house. Much better. _Dean, if you’re done making love to your cars, come home._

Getting no answer, he sent a mental image of himself holding Dean in his arms slowly kissing him, followed by an image of Dean kissing the cold hard metal of a car’s hood. A smile played around his mouth, but he didn’t say anything more.

* * *

By the time he was nearly home Dean was trying to decide how to ask Samuel about becoming a hunter, without mentioning the whole incident with the demon tonight, when he received the angel’s message over their bond. Feeling himself flush a little at the first image of Sam kissing him breathless, and unable to stop a small chuckle from escaping at the next one he received.

He sent back an image of himself stark naked, spread out over the hood of a classic black Chevy, while Samuel was thrusting inside of him, one of his newest favorite fantasies, as he took the stairs up to their apartment two at a time. Knowing how much his talk about cars put the angel to sleep but figuring even Samuel could appreciate that.

When he opened the door to the apartment, the first thing he noticed was the soft music playing in the background. Then he noticed the candles, the table set with some of the angel’s best dishes, and the smell of food cooking making his stomach grumble and his mouth water.

Finally he saw the angel standing over by the window, studying something intently, and Dean couldn’t help but smile touched and amused at the same time at the whole romantic setting. Samuel had sure gone all out. Shutting the door quietly as he crossed the room and wrapped his arms tightly around the angel’s waist from behind.

“I’m home.” He whispered unnecessarily, kissing the side of Sam’s neck, and looking over the angel’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

* * *

A warm shiver went through the Angel. He dropped the pamphlet and turned around, still in Dean’s arms. “Waiting for this.”

Slanting his mouth across Dean’s, he cupped the side of his neck and kissed him slow and easy at first. Rubbing his mouth back and forth over Dean’s, he teased, never letting his tongue penetrate further than his lips, smirking when he felt Dean chase his tongue. Then Dean made a sound, and that broke Sam.

Pulling Dean closer, he pushed his tongue into the heat of Dean’s mouth, stroking, tasting, and exploring every corner. Electric heat crackled between them. Sam had no idea how he could need someone this much, or how he could have lived so many human life times and not have realized the difference between being alone, and coming home.

Breaking the kiss, he took a deep breath. “Angels are not supposed to bow down to addictions,” he said seriously, his gazed traveling between those sinful lips and eyes hotter than the fires of hell, at least in the poetic sense.

* * *

For a moment Dean forgot how to think completely as the angel turned in his arms and proceeded to torture him slowly with his lips and tongue. Teasing him, and for someone who’d never had sex before last night, Samuel was a fucking amazing kisser, no doubt about it.

The young man made a sound in his throat half way between a moan and a groan of frustration when after the angel would not let him deepen the kiss.

A moment later Samuel was clutching him closer and practically devouring his mouth, much to Dean’s approval. The young man arching and sliding his body up against the angel’s, letting his hands slide down Sam’s shoulders. Raking across his back and cupping his ass, squeezing the muscles firmly.

When the angel finally let him come up for air, Dean couldn’t help but grin up at Samuel. Panting a little and licking his lips, knowing and loving how Sam was watching his every move.

“Angels have a lot of stupid rules.” Dean answered just as seriously before pressing his mouth back to Samuel’s again with a groan. Making love to Sam’s mouth with his tongue.

* * *

“Mmm,” Sam tried to agree, but his mouth was otherwise occupied. He’d never get tired of this, ever. Of him... of Dean. Holding him close, he stroked and touched, and kissed him back until they both needed to come up for air.

“I thought you were dessert. It turns out you’re really the appetizer,” he grinned, still holding him close and swaying from side to side, loving how they fit together. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. We can stay in bed like you wanted,” he said, almost laughing at the decadent light that entered Dean’s eyes.

 

“Order pizza...” he made a slight face. He still didn’t get Dean’s fascination with fast food. “Watch your car races on t.v.” Yeah, he’d probably read a book at the same time or get on his computer, and smile and nod at the right moments. He did like the end of a race though, that part could be exciting. “Unless you want to get up early and do some work around the neighborhood. You know Mrs. Kravitz could use some help with getting her groceries, but she likes to go shopping at seven a.m. sharp.”

* * *

“I can be the desert too, I’m versatile.” Dean clarified, grinning back at the angel.

Definitely liking Sam’s idea of staying in bed late. If last night was any indication, he’d be needing the rest come tomorrow morning. When Samuel went on to mention them getting pizza tomorrow too and watching his race shows, he knew he was being spoiled, but he wasn’t about to complain one damn bit.

He practically purred in agreement, letting his head rest on Samuel’s shoulder. Snuggling a little closer to the angel as they swayed a little in time to the music. When Dean realized it he gave another small chuckle. It was the closest to dancing he’d ever get, that’s for sure.

Dean made a face however when Samuel mentioned getting up early instead, seven a.m. early to be exact. God, talk about cruel and unusual torture.

“Um… I think I liked your first ideas better.” Dean finally replied with a small laugh, though when Samuel mentioned ‘helping’ around the neighborhood it reminded the young man about what he wanted to talk to the angel about. Now was as good a time as any he supposed.

“I was talking to Bobby today, and there was something I wanted to ask you about…” He began, trying to decide exactly how to word his request when the buzzer from the oven sounded signaling that their dinner was ready.

* * *

"Oh yeah?" Letting him go, Samuel started for the kitchen. "Let me guess, you want to work more days with your precious cars." Chuckling he opened the oven and brought the lasagna out, setting it on top of the stove.

In short order, Samuel had the salad and pasta on the table. He also brought out a bottle of red wine he'd been saving for a special occasion, together with a bottle of beer, since he knew that was Dean's preference. "I don't mind if you really want to do that, but I'd like you to have other experiences. See what else you might like to do before choosing."

Walking around the table, he pulled chair out and indicated for Dean to come over and sit. "I was thinking you might want to try a class or two. Don't give me that look, it could be in anything. You like movies, or music... art. Just... if you're going to have glue and paint around, can you maybe do it on the roof." He knew Dean thought he was too particular about keeping the place mess free.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but smile a little as the angel made his guess. Wrong of course, but it amused him nonetheless. Especially when the angel went on to talk about how he wanted him to have other ‘experiences’ and to see what else he might like doing before he decided.

Well, he was certainly thinking of broadening his horizons, so to speak. Samuel should be happy about that, right? Though he had a feeling this wasn’t exactly what the angel was talking about.

“Not exactly…” Dean replied as he sat down at the table. Making a face when Sam suggested he take a _class_ or two. An _art class_ even. Was he kidding? He began to wonder if all the sex had melted the angel’s brain or something. Dean rolled his eyes.

“You know, we had arts and crafts at the asylum too. Most of the other patients spent more time eating the paste and glitter. It wasn’t pretty.” Dean grumbled a little. He certainly didn’t need to be reminded of _that_.

“I want to learn how to be a hunter.” Dean finally just blurted out to stave off any more suggestions about pottery or basket weaving classes or whatever.

* * *

“... it doesn’t have to be arts—“ hearing Dean’s pronouncement, Samuel almost dropped the plate he’d just put a portion of lasagna on for Dean. Hunter. He couldn’t be serious. He’d better not be serious.

“Music is good. It’s safe. Raphael plays the harp. I play the piano. You could...” he looked over at Dean and caught his expression of disbelief. “Alright, maybe not the harpsichord, but I could see you with drums or a guitar... even those loud electric ones that make people go deaf.”

He set the plate down and made sure Dean got some salad, before sitting down and pouring some wine. He drank half his glass, before looking at Dean again. That stubborn tilt of his lover’s chin, which he sometimes found fascinating, scared him right now. “I can’t stand the thought of you in that kind of danger. We’ll find something else you’re interested in.”

He tasted his food carefully, and looked back at Dean. “Eat, so we can get to dessert. I want to suck on something sweet.” Heat rose to his cheeks, but he knew subtlety would not distract Dean.

* * *

Dean frowned when Samuel paused briefly then merely continued speaking as though he hadn’t even heard him at all. At first the young man was so stunned he could only stare in confusion and disbelief at the angel, not really knowing what to think.

What the hell?

He’d had no doubt that Samuel probably wouldn’t like the idea of teaching him how to become a hunter. That he would probably have to argue, beg, and do god knows what else to prove to the angel that he was serious about this. But he hadn’t expected Sam to just disregard him completely.

He didn’t think Sam had done that before and he was surprised how much it hurt. To have Samuel ignore him like so many other people had done in the past. He barely heard the angel go on about music, the piano, and what the fuck was a harpsichord anyway?

Find something else he was interested in… like Dean had just suggested stamp collecting or some other hobby. He knew it was going to be dangerous. He knew exactly what was asking and knew it wasn’t some kind of game. He wasn’t stupid. Then why was Samuel treating him like he was?

Dean looked down at his food, feeling like he’d suddenly lost his appetite. Only looking up again when the angel made his bold announcement about desert and he frowned harder at the angel. Though at the moment the young man wasn’t sure if he was angrier at Samuel or himself. Maybe he should have waited before having this talk. All day he’d been looking forward to coming home, being with Samuel, the last thing he wanted was to be angry or fight with the angel.

But if this was the way to prove to Samuel that he was serious about this…

“Do you think I can stand the thought of _you_ in that kind of danger all the time? You almost died last night, so don’t even try to tell me it’s different. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m always in danger. Every time I step outside that door because I can see them, feel them, they know it and I’m tired of being so damn defenseless. I need to do this, Samuel… please…”

* * *

Dean’s thoughts and rising anger came through loud and clear through the mental link. Sam stiffened and set his fork down. “Do not project on me what you feel others have thought about you or how they’ve treated you. I have not for one moment thought you were, as you put it, dumb.”

Sam’s nostrils flared slightly as Dean continued, each of his verbal words punctuated by the heat of his anger, and that same feeling that he’d been somehow wronged. He was well aware of the dark place their last argument had lead them, but the Angel would not be a prisoner to fears that Dean would walk away again.

“It’s not the same. It’s not.” Palm flat on the table, Sam leaned forward toward Dean. “I was made for this, my body is built for battle, for all my duties. I have lived thousands of years. You are human. Fragile. I did not save you from the depths of hell only for you to meet an early death because you want to be a hunter.” A curse almost left Samuel’s lips at the though of the dangers Dean would place himself in.

“Already, we have very little time together. For you a lifetime, for me... a blink of an eye. Don’t ask me to let you cut it shorter, don’t you ask me for that Dean.” He let the depth of his fears flood their mind link. “Hunters don’t live long. I need you to live. I will protect you. Let me.”

* * *

Dean flinched only a little as the angel read his thoughts and thoroughly chastised him for them. Alright perhaps that had been unfair to Samuel, even though he'd never meant for the angel to 'hear' those thoughts. Dean could admit when he was wrong and it wasn't as if he meant to project. But the angel couldn't deny how he'd brushed away his words with little consideration, trying to distract him rather than talk to him. Fine, Samuel had never thought he was 'dumb' but that didn't stop the angel from treating him like a child who didn't know what he wanted.

The young man felt a mixture of anger and sorrow flood through him even as he defiantly met the angel's eyes. As Samuel argued how different they were. How he was 'built' for battle. What was _he_ 'built' for then?

He had this... curse... this ability to see things, demons, other things, as they truly were. Why him? Why had he been tortured all his life seeing these things? Why did he have it if he was not meant to use it somehow? It was so much easier to believe this had been given to him for a reason other than a sick cosmic joke...

Dean finally had to look away from the angel. Not because he was backing down, but because he had to blink back the sudden sting of tears in his eyes and he did not want Samuel to see.

Fuck... Why did it always have to come back to this between them? Clashing like this. He hated being at odds with Samuel. Absolutely hated it. They'd only been... for one day, less than one day even... on good terms and now they were angry and arguing with each other again when all Dean had wanted all day was for Samuel to hold, touch, and kiss him.

He didn't want to leave Samuel. God, he that was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want to die and leave the angel alone. He certainly didn't want to cut their time together any shorter. A couple months ago Dean wouldn't have argued with the angel's wishes. He would have agreed to simply let Samuel go on keep protecting him.

But he wasn't the same anymore. He wasn't that scared boy cowering in the bed crying, just silently begging for it to be over while someone stronger than him hurt him... He didn't _want_ to be that anymore. Samuel couldn't always protect him every second of every day for the rest of his life. He didn't want the angel to, even. Dean wanted to be able to protect himself. He wanted to be able to protect others. And he couldn't do either if he didn't know how to fight these things. If Samuel wouldn't teach him... he'd just have to find someone who would.

He sighed softly, looking back to the angel. Feeling Samuel's fears clearly over their bond and trying to sooth them with a wave of reassurance and love. Even as he knew his next words would likely piss the angel off... or break his heart.

"I wasn't asking you for permission, Sam... I was asking for your help." Dean smiled sadly, reaching across the table to grasp the angel's hand tightly. "I'm sorry but you're not always going to be able to protect me, unless you plan on locking me away in this apartment forever. But its all right, I understand, and you don't have to do this, I'll do it myself. And I'm not about to go dying on you any time soon, I swear. You can't get rid of me that easily..."

* * *

Samuel looked down at his hand in Dean’s, struggling against emotions battling inside him. Fear. Rising anger at Dean’s rebellion, and pride... he was not a child, not anymore. .

“You are not talking about defense, you are talking about taking the offensive against them. Don’t try to bamboozle me, I have walked this earth too long.” Lifting his head, he met Dean’s gaze. Did he really think couching it, shrouding the truth of what he intended would trick him into supporting this crazy scheme of his. “I offer you the world, anything you want to do... to be, and you choose this? To rub elbows with every dark thing out there? To be in danger of losing your life all the time?”

A muscle throbbed in his jaw at the thought of going through what they had when Dean had been attacked by a demon on the street so long ago. It wouldn’t be once, it would be over and over, each time he faced something new.

“You do this, you do it without my agreement. I see now how much what I want means to you.” Righteous indignation flowed from the Angel who wasn’t used to having his will crossed.

He pulled his hand away, his plans of a romantic dinner crashing and burning around him. Maybe they would never be that couple he’d seen in his dream.

* * *

Hurt flashed across the young man’s face when Samuel pulled his hand away, but Dean schooled his expression quickly. Trying to remind himself that the angel had every right to be upset. To be angry. Also trying to remind himself that the reason Sam was so angry in the first place was because he was worried. Because he cared about him… it didn’t really make it any easier. In fact, it might have only made it harder.

“Yes. I choose this.” He said decisively, pulling his hand back. He would not reach out to Samuel if the angel didn’t want him to, and if Samuel did not want to help him, then that was fine too. Just like he said. He’d find someone else to teach him, or he’d teach himself.

Maybe it wouldn’t even work out. Maybe he’d be a lousy hunter. But he had to try. He just knew somewhere deep inside him that he had to do this.

And maybe Sam was right too about it not being about defense. At least, not only his. Tonight… those girls had been completely defenseless. They’d had no idea what it was attacking them. If it had been a man, maybe they would have had a chance. He hadn’t really had a chance either, but if he’d done nothing then they might be dead now. At least he’d been able to help a little and it felt… good. It felt right.

He knew Samuel had to understand that. Why else would the angel do what he did?

Dean sighed softly and looked down at his plate. Unable to meet the angel’s angry eyes anymore, and besides, he’d said his peace. He even managed to take a few bites of his food, though he was hardly hungry anymore and he couldn’t really enjoy it like he would have wanted to and that filled him with regret. Not for making his choice, but because it had led them to this place once more, and Dean didn’t know how to bridge the distance widening between them. Did Samuel even want him to?

“Are you regretting loving me now?” Dean finally asked, unable to look up at the angel as he said the words or stop his voice from breaking a little with emotion when he did.

* * *

Samuel wasn’t accustomed to opposition, his expression made that clear as he pushed away from the table and stood up, dropping his napkin.

“I regret that you’ve had a terrible life growing up.” In one step, he was pulling Dean up off his chair. “I want to give you a normal life,” he cleared the table with his arm, sending dishes clattering to the ground, breaking porcelain and crystal, hours of work down the drain, and he hardly noticed.

He lifted Dean up, and sat him on the table and spoke through clenched teeth, spacing his words out. “I regret that you are throwing my gift back in my teeth.” Seeing Dean’s tongue dart out to lick his lips, Sam’s body clenched. All day long, he’d anticipated a different end to the night. Gripping Dean’s shirt, he easily tore it open, buttons flying to the ground.

He pulled Dean closer to the edge of the table, and stepped between his legs, bringing their groins into hard contact. His heart immediately started to slam into his chest. A part of him wished Dean didn’t hold such power over him. “I regret that you disregard my advice and my wishes so easily. That you’re stubborn, and willful. That you drive me crazy...”

Shoving his hands under Dean’s tee shirt, he pushed the material up, his eyes darkening with desire. “Anything else you think I regret is in your mind. Don’t... don’t make every argument an end game. Don’t.” Swooping down, he took Dean’s mouth in a hard, relentless kiss, keeping him from falling back just using his hands under Dean’s shirt to keep him up.

White hot heat spiraled through Samuel’s body. He moaned lightly, grinding his hips against Dean’s, showing him how hard he was already. _Why do you want to torment me? Why, Dean?_  


* * *

Dean raised his head when he heard the angel get up suddenly. Tensing involuntarily, his fork clattering to his plate, and his eyes never leaving Sam’s as the angel rounded the table and forcefully dragged him out of his chair before he could stand. The hard unforgiving look on Samuel’s face making him feel just a little nervous in spite of himself, who wouldn’t feel just a little nervous standing face to face with an avenging angel, after all? Even knowing that Samuel would never hurt him…

Not physically anyway. But if there was one thing the young man had learned there were lots of ways to hurt someone that didn’t always involve physical pain. It was that kind of pain that Dean was bracing himself now for. For Samuel to tell him he did regret it… For the angel to tell him that if he insisted on becoming a hunter he would have to leave…

Just imagining all the things Samuel could say had his heart hammering even before he jumped as the angel angrily sent their food and dishes crashing loudly to the floor with a sweep of his hand. Easily lifting him up on the now cleared surface.

Dean licked his lips nervously. He wanted to shake his head no. No, he wasn’t throwing all of that back into Samuel’s face. He was grateful for everything that the angel had done for him. Samuel had saved him in so many ways. Not only from Hell. The asylum, Rick, and demons, but from himself as well. He owed Samuel everything. He didn’t forget that. But hadn’t Samuel also tried to teach him that it was his life? That he had to live it and make his own choices?

The young man gasped when his shirt was ripped open and his heart began to beat faster for a different reason now. His mouth going dry and his skin flushing with heat as Samuel dragged him to the edge of the table. The angel pushing himself between his legs and Dean’s fears were scattered to the winds as Samuel crushed their mouths together.

Dean went willingly into the angel’s arms, moaning in pleasure as he opened his mouth, accepting his lover’s kiss without hesitation despite the roughness of it. He wrapped his arms around Samuel’s neck, his fingers tangling in the angel’s hair, clutching him closer. His legs gripping around Sam’s waist, arching against the angel trying to get their bodies even closer. Letting Samuel support him. Trusting him never to let him fall.

_I don’t want that. I don’t, I swear._ Dean promised, kissing the angel harder, opening his mind to show Samuel nothing but love and desire.

* * *

  
_And yet you do torment me._ In the grips of desire and lust, Samuel was talking about a whole other type of torment now. He couldn’t get enough of Dean, the way he tasted, the way he chased his tongue... catching... releasing... catching. The way he clung to him, moved against him, knowing exactly what he needed... when he needed.

Pulling his mouth away, Sam slid his hand behind Dean’s back and with his free hand, push pushed his tee shirt up. With Dean bowed backwards, Samuel lowered his mouth and kissed his belly, licking hot trails along the indentations of his muscles, moving up and down... sucking, nipping.... never getting enough.

Consumed by fiery hunger, he shared it with Dean. Let him know how close he always walked to the edge, when it came to Dean. He ground his hips, hot and aggressive against his lover, wanting him, wanting to be inside him, wanting to catch his every breath, be the reason for his every cry, wanting them to merge. _I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I can’t. Please don't do this..._  


* * *

Dean wanted to protest again that the last thing he ever wanted to do was cause Samuel pain. But the way the angel was kissing him, touching him, driving him to the edge with need, was scattering all his rational thoughts to the wind.

All he could do was whimper in protest when his lover ripped his mouth away leaving him aching and wanting. Then Samuel was pushing up his shirt even more. Bending him back, and leaving hot trails of fire along his skin with his mouth, making the young man shudder and moan wantonly.

“Samuel… oh god…”

He lifted his hips, gripping Samuel’s shoulders in a bruising grip, and grinding his erection against his lover. Moaning at the feel of the angel’s answering hardness digging into him. Silently begging for more. Everything that Sam was willing to give him.

“You won’t lose me… you won’t…” Dean swore, even as he felt tears stinging his eyes at Samuel’s pain. The depth of his fear. Understanding it better than Samuel might realize because he had felt it too, last night. Guilt clawing inside of him knowing he could ease it if he promised Sam he wouldn’t do this… but it would be a lie.

Because he knew it was something he just had to do. He had to try. And just like he would never ask Samuel to stop doing what he did, even after last night, he prayed that the angel would eventually understand why _he_ had to do it. Just like he understood why Samuel did…

“I love you… make love to me… please…”

* * *

Dean's words had Samuel shuddering as he struggled for control. Raising his face, he allowed Dean to see the naked ... relentless desire in his expression.

Eyes locked with Dean's, he started to undo Dean's pants. There was no fumbling, no caressing, no delay. Gripping the jeans and Dean's underwear, Samuel took a single step back and had Dean naked. He stripped his own top off and walked away to the table near the window.

He couldn't for the life of him remember whether he'd put what he deemed the best lubes in the pile to the right or the left, nor could he start the process of reading the materials all over. Snatching one up, he opened it as long strides carried him back to Dean who'd taken his shirt off.

As Samuel undid his belt and pants, his heated gaze lingered first on Dean's swollen lips, his flushed skin, and traveled down the length of his body. He loved the way Dean didn't shrink away or try to hide from his view. Liked the way he boldly stared back, meeting the fire in Sam's stare with fire of his own.

Sam dropped his pants to the ground, kicking them away. Every cell in his body screamed for him to take what was his, and he wasn't arguing. Stepping between Dean's legs, he pressed his thick, fierce arousal, firmly against Dean's groin, simultaneously melding their mouths together.

As they kissed and ground their hips, and groaned and clawed at each other trying to get closer, all Samuel could think of was how much he needed this one man. Of all the men and women he'd walked by, this one had captured his heart, his body... his very soul. _I love you too. No matter what._

Needing to be inside Dean and sensing his lover's need for he same thing, he looped his arms over Dean's thighs and unerringly finding his hole, started to liberally apply lube. _Give me your tongue,_ he demanded, distracting Dean as he pushed his thumb slowly inside, working in as much of he ointment as he could.

Despite the relentless demands of his body, he kept his control, tongue fucking Dean and flooding his mind with powerfully erotic images that he'd pulled from Dean's own mind at other times, using them to make him so crazy with need, he wouldn't notice how he was being stretched and prodded by the Angel's fingers.

Feeling his lover's shudder, Sam moaned and penetrated his finger deeper... finding the spot he'd been searching for. "That's it... that's it Dean," he whispered against his lips, stroking him with every press of his finger. "Good... you're doing good..." The Angel's voice was thick and strained as he battled powerful urges to ease his achingly rock hard erection by burying himself deep inside Dean.

* * *

Dean’s stomach muscles clenched. A small moan escaping his lips when Samuel lifted his head, the hungry look full of desire in his lover’s eyes making him feel weak. His heart beating harder against his ribs like it was trying to break free from his chest. He couldn’t have looked away from those eyes if his life depended on it. He was held captive. Willingly. Samuel owned his body, his heart, his soul…

“Yes…” He groaned under his breath, lifting his hips eagerly as the angel all but ripped his jeans off of his legs. Dean hated letting Samuel go even for a moment but allowed Samuel to step away from him. Because if he guessed right they would definitely need what the angel was going for.

The young man quickly stripped off his shirt. Leaning back, enjoying the view. The way the muscles of his lover’s back moved. Te way the candlelight danced across his perfect skin. So much more beautiful than any dream could ever be.

Dean licked his lips, letting his legs slide apart further unashamedly for the angel, loving the way Samuel was looking at him. His own eyes raking over his lover’s body just as hungrily as the angel looked at him. His gaze lingering on Samuel’s hard cock as the angel stripped off his last article of clothing.

_Want you… so bad…_

He groaned into the smoldering kiss he was given, lifting his hips, rubbing their cocks together as Samuel ground against him. Clutching at the angel’s back for support and lifting his legs as he leaned back even more giving Samuel access to his most intimate place.

Whimpering as the angel simultaneously sucked on his tongue while making him even hotter with images of all the sinful things he wanted his lover to do to him. The fingers breeching inside his body making him burn, quickly eased by the coolness of the lube making Dean shudder and clench around them. But his body warmed quickly around the fingers penetrating him and relaxed, moaning for more.

“Yes, please… more…” Dean moaned, shuddering hard, his fingers digging into his lover’s muscles as the angel touched that place inside of him that set him on fire.

_Need you…_   


* * *

  
_"Here, right here."_ Samuel kept kissing, kept caressing, distracting Dean… even though his lover's every restless movement drove him closer to the edge. He was not going to allow anything to make at least _this_ less than perfect, even if the wait killed him… both of them.

He moved his mouth over every inch of Dean's throat, sucking, licking… returning to his mouth, and then mapping his jaw… his cheeks, his eyes, only to return to his again to his mouth. Trying to ignore the demands of his body, his raging arousal… this terrible need to be inside Dean.

Minutes ticked by. Samuel's blood thickened, inching through his veins, pounding at his temples. His entire focus was on the man he was holding, kissing, touching, and tasting. The silken heat of Dean's mouth was incredible, addicting. Between that and the way Dean's body rippled with pleasure in his arms, Samuel was about to go mad.

He shifted suddenly, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock lodged firmly against Dean's hole. His tip became coated with lube, moist and slippery, while he pulsed against Dean's entrance. Gripping his hip, he pulled back. "Look at me. Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with anguish as he started to push inside, inch by inch, eyes locked with Dean's… taking in his every reaction, groaning as he battled against the instinct to ram himself inside and take what was his.

* * *

Samuel seemed intent on driving him insane with pleasure and Dean was all too happy to be along for the ride. He couldn’t stop whimpering and moaning as the angel mapped every inch of his face and throat with his lips. Those amazing lips returning to his mouth over and over, kissing him senseless.

He was so ready. So god damn ready. But Samuel made him wait, kept opening him up for his cock. His lover making his body shudder around the fingers working so deeply inside of him, and it felt so damn good but he wanted more. Needed more.

Then, finally Samuel was pressing against him. The hot tip of his shaft nudging against his hole and Dean stilled. His breath catching in his throat as he stared at the angel as Samuel asked. His eyes open wide trying to show all the ache, all the longing and desire, he felt for Sam. All of his need, all of his love, everything that belonged to Samuel.

“Yes…” He moaned, tightening his legs around the angel’s waist, trying to draw Samuel deeper inside of him. Any ache he might have felt by his lover’s entry completely overshadowed by the overwhelming pleasure of having Sam inside of him for the first time. Claiming, loving him completely…

“Love you, Samuel… feels so good…"

* * *

Samuel sank all the way into Dean, pulsing hard against him but hardly moving more than an inch. His expression was fierce, his eyes, the way he held Dean, possessive... wild. “I love you, Dean. Always.”

With each excruciatingly slow movement, he told Dean under no uncertain terms, that nothing would tear them apart. He wouldn’t allow it. By the time he was done with his proclamations, his body was raging with need... shuddering as he exerted the last shreds of his control and kissed up the center of Dean’s chest.

When he go up to his mouth, when he felt Dean’s legs squeezing his hips, felt him tugging, Samuel broke. Groaning, he pulled Dean impossibly closer and started to fuck him, closing his eyes as he pulled slightly out and slammed back inside. He arched his back, moving harder, with deliberate movements, wanting, needing to give Dean the same pleasure he was getting.

_So tight, so hot Dean. So hot, this should be illegal... even for non-Angels,_ he added. The pressure built, like a volcano about to erupt. Samuel moved faster, deeper, catching his lover’s sounds, groaning as Dean’s fingers bit into him, his need, his desires coming through loudly across their connection.

The heavy table started to move across the floor under Samuel’s now almost violent thrusts. Growling in frustration, he gripped Dean’s ass with one large hand, helping him rise to meet him halfway. “Come... come with me,” he commanded hoarsely.

* * *

Dean made a sound between a whimper and a moan when Samuel finally seated himself balls deep inside of him. Fuck, but Sam was so thick and hot, so deep inside of him. It made him ache, but it felt so damn good. The way the angel was looking at him making him so hot inside it felt like his insides were melting.

“Yes… yes…” He panted with each soft kiss the angel pressed into his skin. Leaning back and shifting one of his hands to grip the edge of the table when Samuel began to pull out and thrust hard back inside of him. Fucking him. Every movement his lover made inside of him making him burn, making him tremble with pleasure, making him his.

“Oh god…” Dean groaned, his head falling back, squeezing tightly around his lover’s hard cock, feeling Sam’s flesh throb inside him. It was amazing. It was everything he’d wanted and more. He’d never imagined anything could feel this good. Feel this perfect.

“Samuel… oh god, Sam!” He cried out his lover’s name loudly, until he was completely unable to form anything more than wordless sounds of pleasure. The angel pounding into him so hard he knew he was going to feel it all day tomorrow and he didn’t care. That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed.

Samuel’s command the final push he needed it seemed. Forcing him over that razors edge between pain and pleasure, making him cry out hoarsely as he covered both their stomachs with his semen without his cock even being touched.

* * *

Samuel’s entire body clenched in response to Dean’s guttural cry. He drove inside his lover, thrusting mindlessly and spilling his seed deep inside Dean, claiming him completely. For a short time, he kept moving slowly, whispering about how good it was, how good they were together, then he realized Dean couldn’t be very comfortable.

Stepping back slowly, he helped Dean off the table. “I didn’t mean to be so rough,” he admitted. He hadn’t been able to help himself, hadn’t exerted as much control as he might have liked. Maybe it was the conversation before... he’d been angry, but that was no excuse. _I’m sorry. Next time I’ll make sure there’s a bear skin or something soft to lay on, handy._

No part of the evening had gone the way of their first time in their interactive dream. The last thing he wanted was for Dean to be disappointed or feel cheated. Slanting his mouth over Dean’s, he dipped his tongue inside, drawing Dean’s body up hard against his. _Let’s shower... and then I plan to taste you all over._ Lifting his head, he smiled. "All night long."

* * *

Dean was still breathing hard, his body still trembling in the aftershocks of pleasure, sweat and come drying on his skin, Samuel’s leaking out of his body when the angel eased out of him, helping him stand on legs that were shaking just a little too much to support his weight, kissing him… and the angel was apologizing to him? When Samuel pulled away the young man could only stare at his lover for a moment as though he’d lost his mind before Dean actually laughed softly and leaned in to press another breathless kiss to his lover’s mouth.

“Don’t apologize, it was fucking amazing. I’m never going to be able to eat at the table again without getting a hard on.” He whispered against the angel’s lips, grinning at Samuel before kissing him again, slower and deeper. Moaning into the angel’s mouth, rubbing his body up against him like a cat. Another pleasant shiver of pleasure rippling through him as he did.

Yeah, maybe he was just a little on the sore side and was going to be walking a little funny tomorrow. Maybe he’d have a few extra bruises from just how tightly Samuel had held him. Maybe he was still regretting that whole argument about hunting and was hoping the angel didn’t make him clean up the mess he’d made because of it. At the same time, it had been perfect. The two of them, together, was always perfect.

“I’ve got a better idea.” Dean said, stepping away from Samuel with a grin. Moving into the kitchen quickly and rummaging through the cupboards before coming up with the angel’s treasured chocolate syrup. “How about we wait on the shower and just get right to desert?”

* * *

The angel literally winced at Dean's announcement. _And now I'll never be able to eat there and not wonder whether you're hard._ His laughter was cut short by their long, lingering kiss. The way Dean was pressing and sliding against him, already Sam's body was showing signs of recovery and interest.

He protested when Dean pulled away from him, immediately missing how he felt in his arms. Seeing him stride into the kitchen, showing off his completely nude body, Sam didn't know whether to laugh or to make him come right back. The latter idea was winning out.

When Dean returned, Sam's eyes were filled with curiosity. "You're hungry..." Dessert. He meant... a smile spread over Dean's face. "Agreed," he said, his throat feeling a bit dry. Clearing it, he put his hand out and took Dean's, tugging him close as they walked down the hall. "First you draw me into a web of forbidden love and lust. Now you're sucking me into a life of gluttony, I'm afraid of what's next."

Though he laughed, Samuel gave Dean a look. If anyone could make him fall, it was Dean.


	11. Chapter 11

  
Dean was utterly astonished just how fast a three months could pass by, like the blink of an eye. Growing up in the asylum time never flew by, it dragged. Every day the same. Every day of pain leading into another. Nothing ever changing. He didn't think much about his time there anymore, except when he simply stopped long enough to marvel at just how much his life had changed since Samuel had come for him.    


  
But now a days, who had time to stop? There was simply too much to do. Too much to learn. Learning how to become a hunter.

At first when he'd gone back to Bobby to ask the older man to teach him how to be a hunter Bobby had been just as adamant as Samuel had been against it. It had taken a few days of near constant arguing and begging for him to finally convince the man to agree to train him. Probably the only reason Bobby had finally agreed was because he realized how dead set he was on it, and the older man said it was better he learn things properly than going out half cocked and getting himself killed. Frankly, Dean had to agree. 

So Dean would stay late after work helping Bobby close up shop at the garage and the older man would teach him everything he knew about hunting. Which was a fucking lot, Dean had learned. Bobby had been quite the hunter in his day and taught him all about the different things out there, things Dean had never imagined were out there beyond nightmares, and how to kill them. Their strengths, weaknesses, often when he left the garage his head felt near to exploding with all the new gory information filling it. 

Bobby had also loaned him books that he took home to read for more research on all the things out there that went bump in the night. Books on demons, witches, magic rituals. Some of them so old the pages were yellowed and the bindings were near falling apart. The older man had also given him books of Latin to learn and memorize, especially exorcism rites, which Dean sometimes read aloud. 

Samuel, true to his word, refused to help him and Dean didn't ask again. At least not overtly. He knew the angel wasn't pleased at all about what he was doing, but neither did Sam try to stop him. 

Sometimes when Dean was sitting on the couch reciting a difficult Latin passage aloud that he just couldn't get right the angel would correct him. Then there had been the name and address of the martial arts instructor that had been left on a piece of paper inside one of his books. Not one of those sissy places that rich parents sent their kids to after school either. The man taught serious hand to hand combat skills and often when he came home Dean was sore as hell and had several bruises but he never felt better in his life. 

Of course Dean paid for the instruction himself, and he never thanked Samuel for the paper. Hunting was kind of the big white elephant in the room that neither of them would talk about, pretending it wasn't there at all. Dean didn't really like it, but what could he say? He hoped that the angel would eventually get used to the idea. Maybe see that this was really what he was meant for, like Dean now knew, but he had a feeling that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Would probably, in fact, get worse before it got better once Dean decided he'd studied enough and wanted to put some of his new knowledge to use. 

Every morning Dean would wake up and exercise. Sit ups, pushups, sometimes he'd use the weights he'd bought, and then he'd go for a run for a few miles. He was amazed at the changes in his body already from his training. He'd always been leanly muscled, but he was really starting to bulk up now. His muscles becoming quite well defined thanks to his efforts, and he could tell Samuel had noticed. His martial arts instructor said he had great reflexes and he was learning fast. Bobby had mentioned taking him to the local gun range and teaching him how to shoot. 

All in all, Dean couldn't remember ever being happier or more content in his life. In spite of the whole hunting thing things were going rather well between him and Samuel too. Dean didn't stay in his own bedroom anymore, that room still used for his clothes and other belongings, but he slept in the angel's bed every night, waking up warm and content every morning in his lover's arms. 

Just like he was now, Dean thought with a lazy smile as he slowly stretched. His muscles shifting and his joints popping a little, snuggling a little back into the warm body wrapped around him from behind. They'd made love long and slow last night and Dean felt pleasantly sore and languid this morning. Well, more like afternoon now. Samuel had given him quite the work out last night so he didn't really need one this morning. He didn't have work today and it _was_ his birthday after all. Nothing better than sleeping half the day away with his lover… well… maybe something was better.

Dean's grin widened as he lazily pushed his hips back, sighing at the feeling of the angel's cock sliding smoothly against the curve of his ass. His own morning erection throbbing a little more insistently in interest.   


* * *

Ever since he’d started sharing his bed with Dean, Samuel found himself sleeping more soundly than he had in centuries. At first, he put it down to all of the sex they were having. He really needed to research whether they were over-active and if it might be a problem for Dean of if there were any negative consequences he ought to be concerned with. He knew the consequence to himself, he had to pay for his lust, cleansing his sins by spending a lot of time on his knees asking forgiveness and going above and beyond the call of duty helping mortals to find their way. The trade off was more than fair, even if he could never quite rid himself of all vestiges of guilt. Later, he noticed that sleep came to him easier even on those nights they took it easier. Sometimes Dean came back so tired from his martial arts training, they’d wait until morning or satisfy each other in less strenuous ways.

Feeling Dean goose him… a word he’d learned recently from his ward who was getting street smarts faster than Sam could believe… he smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re ready again, hmm? I won’t believe it.” Lazily, he turned over and drew Dean in for a kiss. “You realize I’m not to be used as your personal exercise machine?”

His gaze slid to the clock, and sat up, pulling Dean with him. “It’s late. Did you turn off the alarm?” Did he even need to ask? “We need to get dressed. Take a quick shower with me? But you gotta promise to keep your hands off me.” A smile pulled at the Angel’s lips, as if he could resist Dean. “I’m serious, we need to get moving.”

* * *

Dean’s warm chuckle of amusement regarding the exercise machine comment and pleased moan when Samuel drew him in for a kiss abruptly changed to a sound of complaint when the angel suddenly pulled away. Tugging him into an upright position at the same time, though the young man let himself flop back practically boneless back to the bed as soon as Sam released him.

Dean looked from the alarm clock the angel was so damn worried about back to his lover’s face with an impressive pout.

“Why? It’s not like we have anything to do today. I want to stay in bed… with you…” Dean complained, punctuating his last words by attempting to tug the angel back down on top of him where he wanted him. His voice lowering an octave, knowing exactly how it affected the angel, when he added.

“I’ll make it worth your while… promise…”

* * *

A thrill ran through Samuel, like it always did when Dean spoke to him like this. It wasn’t as if he could hide his reaction, either. By the look on Dean’s face, he’d felt it too. Relenting only for a moment, Sam pressed his weight down over Dean and gave him a long, lingering kiss. “You know I never get enough of this, of you. But we really have to go.”

He pulled Dean up again, ignoring the look in his eyes. “Stop being so tempting. There’ll be plenty of time for this later.” When Dean continued to try to pull him back, and dilly dally, the Angel knew he had to take things into his hands, and now.

Without a by your leave, he lifted Dean off he bed and into his arms. “Shower. Get dressed. Go with me, one stop... then you get to say what we do for the rest of the afternoon. It’s fair,” he insisted, before dean said a thing. “Maybe two stops, we need some ice cream.”

Despite Dean’s playful struggling, Sam managed to get him in the shower and washed up in record time. “Wear something nice,” he said, as they separated outside the bathroom door. Dean’s clothes were still in the guest bedroom. Neither one mentioned it, but they both knew it was less incriminating that way should there be questions.

* * *

Dean moaned in definite approval, loving the feel of the angel’s excitement over their bond as much as the feel of his lover’s weight pressing over him. Wrapping his arms around Samuel’s back as he opened his mouth for the kiss. Returning it with just as much enthusiasm as his hands mapped the shifting muscles beneath them. He was just beginning to really enjoy himself when Sam pulled away again, making a rather pathetic sounding whine break from his kiss swollen lips.

Though he continued to protest, especially when the angel finally managed to disengage from him only quite literally pick him up and carry him into the bathroom, he couldn’t help feeling curious. There hadn’t been many times since they’d started having sex that Samuel would refuse his advances, the fact that the angel was doing so now, and not even giving him a good reason why, intrigued him as much as it frustrated him.

The young man wasn’t about to give up without a fight however, though it was mostly for fun at this point. As he kept trying to escape, wet and dripping, from the shower when the angel finally put him down only to have Samuel drag him back in. Fighting off his groping hands, and otherwise making it as difficult as possible for the angel to wash him, he was laughing and actually upset it was over so soon. Samuel was once more rushing him to get ready.

Definitely awake now, and definitely curious too, Dean went to get dressed without complaint. He put on his favorite pair of black jeans, a black tee shirt, with a forest green button up shirt over it. He fixed his hair, giving it that spiky look he liked, and put on his boots, grabbing his leather jacket on the way out. Shrugging it on as he waited in the living room by the door for Samuel to emerge.

“Waiting on you now!”

* * *

Samuel was chuckling out loud and shaking his head as he reached the living room, when he stopped cold. His gazed traveled down and up Dean’s body, warming at the sight of the tight jeans and the way the tee shirt gave a hint of his muscular frame.

Licking his lips, and slightly regretting that he’d refused to go one quick round in the shower, he joined him. “Didn’t I tell you to stop tempting?” Stealing a quick kiss, he opened the door before he changed his mind. He’d been right all along. Raphael didn’t hold a candle to Dean. Why some of the other angels couldn’t see it was a mystery to him.

They headed down the stairs, waving at their friends waiting on tables at the restaurant next door. He lengthened his strides, aware that he was forcing Dean to rush, but they were gonna be late if they didn’t rush, and this was too important.

Knowing that Dean was bursting with questions, and that Dean knew he would never lie, Samuel kept up a stream of conversation like he never had before. He even brought up topics that ordinarily put him to sleep but enthralled Dean.

By the time they reached Bobby’s garage, his throat was dry from talking. “Let’s drop in here for a second,” he said, trying to suppress all signs of excitement, internal and external. “I promise not to let Bobby put you to work.”

Smiling, Sam pushed the door of the office to the garage open, and nodded for Dean to go in.

* * *

Samuel was definitely up to something. No doubt about it. First of all the fact that they were rushing at all today when they both supposedly had nothing to do, yet he had to practically jog to keep up with the angel's quick long steps, was a dead giveaway. Not to mention the angel wasn't even telling him where they were going, in fact, taking great pains to keep him from asking. The entire way Sam kept up a running commentary that would have done a five year old hyped up on jolt soda proud. He probably would have called the angel on it except he found it too amusing, and decided instead to let Samuel have his fun.

When they stopped at Bobby's garage and the angel suggested they go inside Dean raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. He was just glad that the angel and the older man were on speaking terms again. That first week or so after he'd announced to Samuel that he wanted to become a hunter had been tense to say the least. The angel no doubt blaming Bobby for his decision, not to mention the older man's agreement to teach him, he was glad he hadn't been around for that argument, because no doubt it hadn't been pretty.

Dean rolled his eyes a little the way the angel held the door open for him to go inside, but went in without complaint. Though he frowned, confused, at how dark it was inside before the lights suddenly came on and shouts of "Surprise!" echoed through the room. Startled, Dean's first instinct, of course, to reach for the knife he now carried on him at all times, though thankfully he didn't draw it. Too stunned by the big gaudy banner that read 'Happy Birthday Dean', the balloons everywhere, cake, and the room full of his friends wearing goofy party hats.

What the hell?

* * *

Thrilled with Dean’s reaction, and relieved to have pulled the surprise off because things like that were very difficult with the mind link they had, Samuel laughed and slapped Dean on the back. Then he broke out into song, starting everyone off, “Happy Birthday...”

It was awful. It was like singing with a group of tone deaf people, with only a single one in the entire group who could hold a tune. But Samuel found it beautiful, in a way no other angel would appreciate.

Noticing Dean’s embarrassed flush, he laughed and whispered near his ear. “I’ll make it worth your while.” Clapping with the others, who parted to allow him to get to the table holding his birthday cake and some presents, he nodded. “Go cut the cake.”

The angel was far too old and experienced with the pains of life in this world to feel a lump grow in his throat at the thought of how many birthday’s Dean must have missed. Even if they had parties at that ... that place, he was certain Dean had not felt like celebrating. Each birthday had to be a reminder of the years passing him by.

The thought of his innocence, of everything he’d been through turned the angel’s eyes inky black for an instant, bringing with it a cold draft of air into the room, before he got a hold of his emotions. Feeling an inquiry inside his head, he smiled. _It’s nothing. I promise. Now cut the cake, I think it’s chocolate._  


* * *

A party. A fucking surprise party. Samuel had planned this, of that Dean had little doubt, but he was still completely stunned just how many people were here at his party. _His_ party. Some of them the angel’s friends that Dean had come to know as well while living with Samuel. Some Dean worked with right here in Bobby’s garage. But a couple he knew from his martial arts training and he had absolutely no idea how Samuel had arranged all this. All without him knowing.

Dean found himself caught between feelings of amazement and a strange giddy sort of happiness that made him blush furiously, mixed with equal measures of embarrassment bordering on horror as everyone broke out into a truly awful rendition of the happy birthday song. He loved it.

The young man looked back at the angel, having to resist the urge to throw his arms around Samuel and kiss him right there in front of everybody.

_You bet you will._ Dean ‘threatened’, giving the angel a wink as he was virtually tugged away from Sam’s side by his well meaning partygoers. Dean laughed, fighting off the efforts to stick one of those dorky cardboard party hats on his head.

Though he glanced back at the angel when he felt the brief rush of anger coming from Samuel, his lover immediately reassuring him it was ‘nothing’ and Dean knowing it was bullshit. But he couldn’t exactly call him on it right now as he was ushered over to his cake, in the shape of a car of course like he was five instead of twenty five, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh as he blew out the candles to another round of applause.

“Someone better have brought some booze to this party, or I’m walking out.” He joked, as he began to cut the cake, chocolate of course, and someone thankfully handed him a cold beer. Maybe this would be a fun party after all.

* * *

Samuel reluctantly accepted the beer thrust into his hand. It might be Dean’s drink of choice, but as far as he was concerned, it didn’t go well with cake. Slyly, he put it on a work surface and made his way to the coffee machine.

“I’ll get it,” a woman he didn’t recognize poured for him. When he tried to take the styrofoam cup, she held onto it. Smiling, he reminded her to release it, and then firmly but kindly told her he didn’t need help pouring sugar or stirring it.

The amused smile stayed on his lips as he watched Dean move around the room. He’d made a lot of friends. And whether he knew it or not, he had a lot of admirers in the room. They were chatting him up and without batting an eyelash, he was laying on the compliments. _Now I know where you practice your flirting._ Assuring Dean he didn’t mind one bit because he knew where Dean would be going home to, the angel circulated.

Occasionally, he gave someone a bit of advice that had them gasping or filled their eyes with tears, but for the most part, he socialized. The entire time, he was keenly aware of where Dean was in the room, whether he was enjoying himself, and trying to gauge the ‘right moment’ to spring his second surprise on him, despite Bobby’s overt winks and gestures, telling him to get on with it.

Walking over to the hunter, eyes trained on Dean, he asked, “are you sure it’s the right one? It’s so old. And smashed... I don’t know, I was thinking maybe we should pick another.”

* * *

Bobby smiled and clapped Samuel on the back good naturedly when the angel came over to him.

It was probably a good thing that the older man wasn't one to hold a grudge, and angels were pretty much incapable of it, because the little tiff they'd had had regarding Dean and the whole hunting issue had been rather explosive. Had probably scared away some of his customers even when the angel had stormed into his office that day demanding what the hell he was thinking giving Dean the idea to go out hunting. Samuel actually having the balls to lecture _him_ about the possible dangers, reminding him of the very reasons why he'd retired from hunting years ago.

Bobby had explained, rather loudly since Sam was already shouting in his face at that point, his eyes black as coal and probably would have made any other man shit himself with fear, that he hadn't done a damn thing to put that idea into Dean's head. It had been the young man who'd run off like he didn't have a brain cell in his head to take on a demon without any preparation or knowledge how to fight one. If Bobby hadn't been there, lord knows what might have happened to the boy.

It wasn't really his fault that Dean had gotten the stupid notion into his head to become a hunter, but that was his choice. If Samuel didn't want Dean to learn how to hunt that was something he needed to bring up with Dean, not him. And, yes, he was going to teach the boy anything he wanted to learn about hunting to the best of his ability because the alternative, Dean going off again half cocked and not prepared at all, was a possibility he wasn't willing to live with.

Yeah, they didn't speak for a good two months after that. Not until Sam had come back, cooled off, asking him to help him prepare a surprise party for Dean for his birthday. They didn't talk about the incident, pretty much sweeping it under the rug.

"Quit worrying so much, Sam, its perfect. Believe me, Dean is gonna piss himself when he sees it. I won't be able to get a decent amount of work out of him for a month." Bobby reassured with a laugh, before whistling sharply to get the attention of everyone in the room.

"Listen up all, Sam wants to say a few words." The older man said before stepping aside, giving the angel the proverbial spotlight.

* * *

“I do?” Samuel raised an eyebrow and looked over at Bobby, shaking his head. He had nothing at all prepared, nor was anything planned. Shaking his head, he raised his coffee cup, only to find someone taking it away and slapping a beer in it’s place.

“First of all, it seems it’s impossible to have a coffee in this place,” he sighed, and got a bit of laughter. They all knew what he was talking about, and he was starting to wonder whether Dean or Bobby had put them up to it. This had to be the third time he’d lose his coffee for a beer.

“Second, and more importantly, this is Dean’s day today.” Smiling, his gaze sought out his ward... his lover’s. “Dean, for someone who’s been in the City for so little time, you’ve made a helluva lot of friends.” _Dammit, I’m picking up your speech. Dammit, I did it again!_ “It means you’re ... you’re a very special person, with an easy nature, you're amusing, have a big heart and...”

“A nice tight ass,” Daryl shouted.

The Angel felt heat rushing up his cheeks, but nodded. “Right. Tight ass. That... that was the main thing I was going to mention, thank you Daryl.”

There was more laughter, enough for the Angel to recover, though he forgot what else he wanted to say. “Okay, so... happy birthday from your friends, and family and erm... guardian angels,” he grinned and took a mouthful of the beer. Why, why did whoever was responsible for buying the beer have to try to save money when he was paying? He just barely prevented himself from spitting it out, and set the bottle down.

“Oh... one more thing. There’s a present waiting for you in the garage... yeah, the garage,” he repeated, his gaze meeting Dean’s again. "And no, it's not a trick to get you to work on your day off."

* * *

Like everyone else in the room Dean looked towards Samuel when Bobby announced rather loudly that Sam had some words to say. He wondered just how the older man had roped Samuel into that one, probably not really given him any choice to begin with knowing better than practically anyone how much Sam didn’t particularly like being singled out. The angel got enough attention just for being an angel and the young man had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at his lover’s somewhat reluctant expression before Sam raised his coffee, then his beer, in a toast.

His eyes meeting and never leaving Samuel’s as the angel went on to list his virtues, his cheeks warming a bit with embarrassment but he couldn’t deny how much he loved hearing Samuel say those things about him. Compliments weren’t really something he’d ever gotten before his life with Samuel, and while he enjoyed the appreciation and sometimes flirting he received from others, it was still Samuel’s opinion that mattered the most to him. It didn’t really matter if anyone else in the room believed everything the angel said about him, Samuel did, and if they’d been alone Dean probably would have kissed the angel senseless right then because he loved him so much… or just to shut him up for making him blush like crazy in front of all these people.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh right along with everyone else about Daryl’s ‘tight ass’ remark, a little knowing smirk pulling at his lips as he sent to the angel, _You’d certainly know better than anyone._

He might have gone on teasing the angel just a little more but Samuel’s words about a present in the garage had him lifting his eyebrows in surprise. He had little time to wonder however before he was quickly being ushered in the direction of the garage by a few of his friends apparently as eager as he was to see what the angel had been talking about.

Bobby shooed everyone out who wasn’t a mechanic or an angel because he wasn’t paying in case someone lost a finger, he said, then the older man hit the lights with fanfare and Dean was could only gape at the ’67 Classic Chevy Impala sitting in the middle of the garage with a big bright red bow stuck to the top. It wasn’t in the best shape, not by far, it needed a new paintjob, probably a lot of work on the engine, new wheels, definitely work on the interior, plus it was missing a door, but the frame was sound and apparently… it was his.

Apparently he’d been staring gaping like a fish out of water for quite some time because Bobby came up behind him and clapped him on the back with a laugh.

“So what do you think, boy?” The older man asked and then laughed again when Dean smiled so big it was a wonder he didn’t split his face open or something. Dean turned around and without much warning threw his arms around the angel not really giving a damn who might be watching.

“This is fucking awesome!”

* * *

As he followed Dean and Bobby into the garage, Samuel was extremely nervous, an emotion he wasn't all too familiar with. He wanted today to go off just right. He knew Dean hadn't had a real birthday in too many years, probably not since before he'd been put in the asylum. The surprise had gone off without a hitch, but he knew birthday presents were very important to humans. There had been a dozen things he'd known Dean would like. Places he would love to go to, events he'd like to see, but they could do that anytime. He'd wanted to give him something that was _all Dean._ For him, about him, and reflective of him.

An old car to repair. It was risky. As Dean stared at it, Sam tried to decipher his lover's feelings by tapping their mental link. The rush of feelings, of pure elation had him smiling.

Before Sam could say a thing, he found Dean in his arms. _Don't you dare kiss me,_ he warned, afraid of the wicked light in Dean's eyes. Still, he smiled and turned what could have been much more into a hug. Slapping Dean on the back, even as he mentally showed him and image of how he would kiss him if he were free to do so. "Glad you like it. It's Bobby you'll have to thank for the choice, though," he admitted.

His gaze met the older hunter's for a moment and he saw maybe panic. Grinning, he said, "I think he wants a hug too." Turn around was fair play!

* * *

  
_Oh, I am going to do so much more than kiss you when I get you alone._ Dean returned, laughing a little, though at the same time he couldn’t help feel a bit disappointed. Because he _had_ wanted to kiss the angel right now, to show everyone just how much Samuel meant to him. How much he loved him. But he’d known going in it would be like this, hiding their relationship from everyone. As much as he might regret that necessity it was only a small regret. Being with Samuel, being loved by him, was worth any hardship no matter how great or small.

Dean followed the angel’s look over towards Bobby, grinning at the look on the older man’s face, and laughing outright at Sam’s words when Bobby held up his hands as though to ward him off.

“Bobby!” Dean advanced towards the older man holding out his arms.

“Don’t even think about it.” Bobby threatened, then ran, and Dean proceeded to chase him around the garage making kissing noises, their antics receiving much laughter from the other mechanics. After he finally managed to catch Bobby, give the man a hug, and receiving a smack on the back of his head for his efforts, he spent some time checking out his car. Making plans in his head how he wanted to fix her up. His car. He still couldn’t believe Sam had bought him a car.

Almost reluctantly he let himself be dragged back out of the garage to his party. He had some more beer, and cake. Opened the presents some of his other friends had gotten for him. Finally late in the afternoon when almost everyone had gone, Dean managed to drag Samuel back into the garage. Away from the eyes of everyone else Dean kissed the angel firmly, thanking his lover exactly the way he wanted to earlier.

* * *

Samuel had never laughed so much in such a short space of time. He’d also never been told his dimples were cute in front of a crowd, and for that... he owed Dean some payback. Definitely owed him.

Hours passed and he hardly seemed to notice. All he knew was that Dean was having a good time, and the party was a success. He’d wanted to give the party at a restaurant, to give Dean an expensive new car, maybe to take him to Paris afterwards, but as he’d sat down to make plans, something in his gut had told him that was all wrong. Wrong for Dean. So he’d talked with Bobby, and gotten help planning the right sort of even to mark Dean’s birthday.

He was walking a few people to the door when Dean suddenly grabbed him and said something about wanting to look at the Impala again. Not even allowing him to apologize, he was dragged into the garage. “Wha...”

Before he completed his question, Dean had his arms around him and was fitting his mouth over his. Opening his mouth, Samuel accepted Dean’s tongue, stroking it gently a few times, then getting drawn into a heated battle. He pulled Dean up flush against him, showing him how he affected him... and how easily he did it.

Still locked in the kiss, they staggered toward the impala. Sam’s back was pressed against the passenger side window just as Dean started a new assault on his senses, kissing him, groping him, practically bring him near the edge right there.

_Tell me this isn’t your way of having sex with her. The car._ He’d already heard Dean’s thoughts earlier, referring to the car as his ‘baby.’ _And before you ask, no... Angels do not get jealous._  


* * *

  
_And what if it is?_ Dean laughed into the kiss, kissing Samuel harder, as though to silence him even though the angel hadn’t spoken aloud. Gripping the angel’s hips tightly as he ground his growing arousal firmly against his lover’s, groaning softly into his mouth. Loving how hard, how hot, Samuel was for him right now and they’d barely even started.

Doing this here and now of course a reminder of the first time Samuel had teased him. Samuel rubbing up against his ass, invisible, while he’d been bent over under the hood of a car trying to work. Leaving him unsatisfied, Dean had a hard on for most of the day after that, and he shared that mental image with his lover now.

_I don’t think I ever paid you back for that._ The young man teased back. Shifting his weight, pulling back, and twisting Samuel around in a modified hold his martial arts instructor had shown him. Dean shoved the angel even more firmly against the side of the car, groaning as he rubbed himself firmly against his lover’s ass. Nipping and sucking his way down the angel’s neck. One of his hands sliding up underneath Samuel’s shirt pinching and rubbing a nipple as his other slid down to grip the angel firmly through his pants.

* * *

Between the mental image Dean sent him, and the memory of what happened afterwards... how Dean had walked into the house and just... just straddled him on a chair... How close he’d been to losing it, to giving in to temptation right there and then, Sam was full on hard and needy. A deep groan broke out of him as Dean turned him around and pressed up against him just as he’d done to Dean so long ago.

Before Sam had a chance to ask any questions, the thick fullness of Dean’s arousal was pressing against his ass and sending blinding heat through the Angel’s system. “Dean!” as his lover’s name broke from him, Sam arched back, scarcely able to breath as Dean touched and groped him. “It’s supposed to be your birthday... not mine,” he barely managed to get out, he head resting against Dean’s shoulder.

Sam’s muscles clenched under Dean’s palm. His nipple grew taut, his breaths grew short. Turning his head, he fused his mouth with Dean’s and gave him a searing kiss. _You make me forget myself_ ,he admitted, knowing he should get them home, that a garage was no place for this. But with every moment that passed, with every touch and each grind of their bodies against each other, his needs rose. Dean knew just how to touch him and what thoughts to put into his head, and he wasn’t pulling any punches.

Pulling Dean’s face closer, Sam kissed him harder. He’d never needed anyone or anything this much. How it was they had this connection, how it had triggered on the very day Dean tried to end his life, how Dean pushed his way so deep into Sam’s heart and life until Sam couldn’t think of living without him.

Sam heard the door and quickly shifted to invisible to human eyes, though Dean could still see him. He didn’t even break the kiss or try to hide his amusement as he mentally told Dean, _Get your explanation ready, cause I got nothing._  


* * *

Dean hadn’t really counted on just how much this would turn him on, taking control like this. Not that he didn’t initiate sex between them, he did quite often in fact, but once he got Samuel interested he usually let the angel take the lead. Not this time.

His lover’s firm ass rubbing against his trapped cock making him moan maybe just a bit too loud considering their location into Samuel’s mouth but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. Plunging his tongue past his lover’s lips to taste the angel deeply, practically fucking his lover’s mouth, and caressing Samuel’s hard cock through his jeans more firmly. Grinding his already leaking erection even harder against the angel, pinching Sam’s already taunt nipples even more firmly, but as good as it felt it was equally frustrating. Wanting, needing, to feel more flesh and muscle against him rather than the rough scrape of fabric.

A sudden mental image of what it might be like if he were to shove both their jeans down to their thighs and plunge himself deeply inside his lover right here, right now, something he’d never even done before… god… almost enough to make him come right then and there. It was probably a ‘good’ thing that the door to the garage opened when it did or else he might have just followed through, leading them into an even more compromising position to be found in. Not like this wasn’t bad enough.

Dean broke their kiss with a great deal of mental swearing he didn’t even bother to hide from Samuel, the fact that the angel was amused rather than panicking like he was clue enough that Sam was invisible now. Leaving Dean ‘alone’ looking flushed, embarrassed, and breathless and probably looking like he’d just been making out with the car or something as he turned around to face Bobby. The older man looking a little surprised to see him, probably had only stepped in to turn off the lights on his way out or something.

“Dean? Thought you’d gone home, boy.” The older man said, raising an eyebrow as he gave Dean a once over and the younger man was intensely grateful there was enough heavy machinery between them that the older man couldn’t possibly see the raging erection below his belt. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just, taking another look at her, before I left… I just wanted to say, thanks again, too. For everything.” Dean reassured quickly, resisting the urge to sigh in relief. Sniffing a little and rubbing at his face, better Bobby thought he was being an overemotional blubbering girl or something rather than that he was getting off right here in the garage with a car. The older man’s concerned expression flickered to amusement, and if the look he gave Dean was a little too knowing, the younger man chose to ignore it.

“No problem, boy. Don’t go getting all mushy on me now.” Bobby said with a grin and Dean had a momentary urge to kill the snickering angel standing behind him. “I’m gonna finish locking up. You can ogle her some more tomorrow, now get on home.” The older man said and walked out and Dean turned to face Samuel with a scowl.

“I am so not having sex with you when we get home.”

* * *

Right before Bobby turned to leave, Samuel, now behind Dean, put his arm round him and ran his hand up and down the length of his chest and abs, blowing lightly in his ear as Dean tried to give Bobby an answer that made some sense.

Then Bobby was gone and Dean turned around and made his threat. “Not at home, huh?” Leaning in, he kissed Dean, sucking his lips as he pulled back. “Where then? I didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist.”

Using his body, he walked Dean backwards across the garage toward the door. “Or how hot you look when you’re flustered and trying to think straight.” Sam ran his teeth along Dean’s jaw, biting him lightly now and again, then sticking his tongue in his ear canal. “Or martial arts could ever play a part in... in our bedroom.” That had taken him by surprise, but Dean’s inventiveness should never do that.

They were through the door to the office, and nearing the front door. Samuel ran his thumb over Dean’s mouth. “In about thirty seconds I’m going to take you over that desk, Dean, unless you’re out the door and running for home.”

* * *

Dean tried to keep up the frown, he really did, because that really hadn’t been funny. If it had been anyone else but Bobby the young man probably wouldn’t have given much of a damn what state he’d been found in, but Bobby’s opinion he actually cared about. Not to mention it wasn’t really all that fair for Sam to ‘leave’ him to be embarrassed alone. But it was really hard to stay irritated at the angel when Samuel was touching him like that. Kissing him like that. Teasing him with his words and touches.

The young man groaned when Sam ‘threatened’ to fuck him over Bobby’s desk, and while Dean’s cock immediately jumped to attention at the idea the part, very small part by this point, that could still think was kind of horrified. If Bobby happened to walk in on _that_ there’d be absolutely no explaining it and Dean had a feeling it would be kind of like if his dad walked in on him having sex or something and that was just kinda gross.

Rather than running as the angel suggested, however, Dean merely threw himself at the angel. His arms wrapped tightly around Sam’s neck and his legs around the angel’s waist, kissing him hard. _How about you put those wings of yours to good use instead?_ The young man suggested, rubbing his erection firmly against Sam with a groan.

* * *

  
_I thought you didn’t like to fly._ But Samuel wasn’t complaining, not when he had solid proof of how deeply Dean was affected. Both of them were burning up with need and it made no sense to prolong the wait.

Making certain the skies above San Francisco were free of other angels, Sam launched into the air, holding Dean tight against his frame. Their mouths met again in a heated kiss as they desperately moved against each other.

It never failed. One of them would start flashing mental images of what they wanted or what they wanted to do, and the other would get drawn in, flash more images, and they’d spiral out of control together, feeding off each others’ feelings. “Dean,” he whispered in a lust roughened voice, showing him how out of control he wanted him. The image locked in his mind was of his head between Dean’s legs, arms holding him spread wide, mouth working his cock and his balls, thumb teasing his entrance as Dean thrashed.

_Want you to want me that much_. He wanted Dean begging for him, asking ... demanding what he needed. _Because that’s how much I need you, always Dean. Always._ , he dropped down in front of their building, but didn’t release his lover. Instead, he climbed the stairs with Dean still wrapped tightly around him, nearly breaking the door as he shut it behind him.

* * *

No, Dean didn’t particularly like to fly, but he couldn’t deny the advantage of getting home in seconds versus the twenty minute or so walk they’d have to endure otherwise. Not to mention the fact that Dean wasn’t even sure he _could_ walk right now, he was so damn hard, without a great deal of difficulty.

Besides, Samuel kept him quite distracted, sucking on his tongue while Dean all but dry humped against the angel while he flew. They probably looked quite idiotic, if anyone could actually see them. And Dean probably would have been glad no one else could, if he gave a damn right now.

All Dean really cared about at the moment was getting into the damn apartment in one piece so that Samuel could make good on his ‘promises’ the angel showed him. God, but Samuel was going to make him explode just from kissing him and the mental images he was receiving without the angel even touching him.

“Oh, fuck, yes. Please, Samuel. Need you.” Dean groaned, worming his way out of the angel’s arms just so he could shove Samuel up against the door that had just closed behind him. As Dean devoured his lover’s mouth and ground against him, his hands twisted and pulled on the angel’s shirt. Ripping it open, sending buttons flying and not caring one damn bit as he proceeded to attack Sam’s now exposed chest with his hands and lips. Scratching his short nails over the angel’s nipples, loving how they tightened immediately under his touch. Flicking his tongue over one and then the other before latching on and sucking hard as his fingers worked at the angel’s belt.

* * *

Slammed backwards into the door and finding Dean’s mouth crushing his as Dean practically tore off his shirt, Sam knew he had what he wanted. His Dean... hot and out of control.

“Yes, hell yes.” The fact that he cursed as Dean’s now calloused hands brushed roughly across his chest was a good indication that he was just as far gone. Fuck... the things Dean could do with his mouth, and right now he was sucking on Sam so hard the pleasure/pain had Sam groaning.

He felt Dean tug on his belt and instinctively thrust his hips forward, trying to get pressure on his already rod hard cock. “Need your mouth around me so bad, need you sucking me,” he ground out, moving his hand down and practically wresting the buckle away from Dean so he could free himself faster.

* * *

Dean groaned in pleasure at his lover’s words and dropped to his knees without hesitation before the angel. He looked up at Samuel with hungry eyes, licking his lips, as his lover quickly freed himself and the young man eagerly helped tug down the angel’s jeans and underwear to the middle of his thighs. Settling his hands on the angel’s hips to keep Samuel steady with a groan, Dean leaned in to press hot kisses against the firm muscles of Sam’s stomach, nipping and licking at the angel’s sweat dampened flesh. Loving the way the strong muscles clenched and trembled under his touch as he nuzzled his way down, licking through the curls at the base of his lover’s hard cock.

Done teasing the angel, Dean looked up at his lover through hooded eyes as he took Samuel’s cock into his mouth to the hilt in one smooth motion. Humming in pleasure around the thick length, Dean tightened his hold on his lover’s hips, keeping his lover still, as he bobbed his head. Wetting the angel’s cock and letting it slide smoothly between his lips. Swallowing Samuel down as deeply as he could, loving every minute of it.

God, but he loved doing this. Driving Samuel completely insane with pleasure. Loved making him lose control. All for him. Only for him. His own cock heavy and painful trapped in his jeans, soaking through the dark denim he was leaking so badly already.

_Taste so good, Samuel. I could come just from you fucking my mouth. So good…_ Dean sent, groaning around his lover’s flesh as his hands moved to the angel’s ass. Squeezing the firm muscles hard, pulling his lover forward, encouraging Samuel to do just that.

* * *

Samuel wrapped his arms tight around Dean as his lover pressed moist hot kisses to his abs, teasing him with thoughts of what would come next. “You drive me mad,” he complained thickly, leaning back as Dean finally moved down his body.

A loud groan broke from him as Dean found his way to the base of his cock and licked him. Threading his fingers through Dean’s spiky hair, he mentally begged for more.

Then he found himself sliding the blunt tip of his cock into the wet heat of Dean’s mouth. Pushing deeper, he felt himself swell and pulse. An angel of his stature shouldn’t be babbling... saying unintelligible things as he was sucked off like this. One of his hands gripped Dean’s shoulder for support as he blindly thrust into his lover’s mouth, harder than he would if he’d been thinking straight but Dean had that effect on him.

“Dean,” he groaned as his lover showed him how he was feeling and gave him permission to come in his mouth. Gripping Dean’s head, he rode his mouth harder, careening over the edge and jerking as ropes of cum shot out of his cock deep into Dean’s throat. “Oh G.. oh fuck, so good... so good,” Sam moved slower as the pressure eased, and Dean let him slide out of his mouth.

Kneeling, he pulled him close and kissed him, tasting himself... tasting Dean’s need on his lips. He rubbed against Dean, knowing it wouldn’t take long for his body to harden again... wanting to give Dean the same gift. “Your turn now, let me give you what you want... need,” he said, muttering against Dean’s throat and running his hands down over his ass, cradling him close. “Kept thinking at the party about what would have happened if we hadn’t found each other. I didn’t know how alone I was until you. Love you so much, Dean.”

* * *

Dean moaned around the length of his lover’s shaft as he relaxed and let Samuel fuck his mouth with near abandonment. Loving that he could push Sam to this point where he could think of nothing but pleasure, giving and receiving. Taking for himself what he had never done before Dean had come into his life. Loving and letting himself be loved. Dean was well aware what a gift that was and the young man thanked god every day for it, no matter if all the other angels, even god himself believed it was a sin. Dean had learned a great deal about sins, demons, and hell since he’d begun his tutelage with Bobby and he refused to believe love like theirs could ever be a sin.

When Samuel came in his mouth Dean whimpered as he sucked down every drop of his lover’s seed greedily. Loving Sam’s taste like he loved everything about the angel, and he continued sucking and licking on his lover’s cock until it grew soft in his mouth. Letting Samuel slip from his lips as the angel dropped to his knees in front of him. Moaning again as he shared the taste of the angel with him while Samuel kissed him breathless.

Dean wrapped his arms around the angel, his heart clenching a little at Samuel’s words, because the young man knew well what would have happened to him if they’d never met. He’d be dead. Burning in Hell, having never known what it was like to feel like this. Feel loved, cared for… That was almost worse than the idea of hell itself.

He tightened his arms around the angel as he buried his face into the angel’s throat. Kissing the soft skin there as his hand’s explored up and down Samuel’s body as the angel did him. Dean knew what he wanted. What he wanted to try. A few weeks ago he would have been too unsure of himself to even suggest it. But now he could only think of making Samuel feel the way the angel had made him feel.

“Sam? Can we…” He still asked a little cautiously, despite his determination. An image flashing in his mind of what he wanted even as he pulled back to look at his lover in the eyes. “I want to know what it feels like, to be inside you.”

* * *

They were rubbing against each other like eels in heat... though he was sure Dean wouldn’t like his ‘Discovery Channel’ analogy... when Dean pushed an image in his mind, one that was nothing like he’d ever shown him before.

Sam saw himself face down on the bed, with several pillows under his stomach, and Dean behind him, on his knees, fucking him. No...loving him.

He felt a sense of trepidation at the all new territory that Dean’s mind was wandering into, but also excitement. He didn’t know if it was Dean’s or his own, sometimes their feelings blurred together over the link. But he was definitely growing warm... hot, and he didn’t mind the image running in his head.

“You know what it’s like, every time I’m inside you, you know.” Moving his mouth over Dean’s, Sam kissed him, then rose, pulling Dean up with him. Both hands on Dean’s ass, he walked him backwards toward the hallway, “besides, Angels don’t bottom. It’s just not done. It’s a... rule.”

* * *

Dean felt the angel’s slight nervousness to his suggestion, and he found it endearing as well as amusing. He just never would have pegged Samuel for a nervous virgin. But he couldn’t help but laugh as Sam tried to tell him that angel’s didn’t ‘bottom’ because it was against the rules. He didn’t know which surprised him more, that Sam actually knew the term ‘bottoming’ or that he’d actually used that lame ass excuse in the first place.

The young man was still snickering, wrapping his arms around the angel’s neck even as he allowed Samuel to walk him backwards towards their bedroom.

“I thought it was also against the ‘rules’ to let me suck your cock and for you to stick your dick up my ass?” Dean asked with a raised eyebrow, grinning. Though Samuel did have a point, he knew what it felt like when Samuel was fucking him because he’d always been able to feel what Sam felt. But a part of him wanted to know if it was any different experiencing it himself, and another part desperately wanted to love Samuel like Samuel loved him. Wanted to be able to make the angel feel like he did when he was loving him.

“You don’t think I’d hurt you, do you?” Dean asked a bit more seriously, trying to peg down exactly the cause of his lover’s hesitation.

* * *

Samuel almost choked as Dean listed all the rules he’d broken. “Now you’re just being vulgar,” he chided, not at all shy about rubbing his surging erection against Dean as they entered the bedroom.

Dean’s question took him by surprise. “No, you’d never hurt me,” Sliding his hand up from Dean’s ass, he started to tug his shirt off, and when he had him free of it, he started on his belt. The question, the real one, hung between them.

“I don’t know, why,” Sam answered honestly. “Maybe I’m a creature of habit, like finding something on the menu you like and being afraid of trying something else that can’t possibly be as good.”

When he had Dean stripped down, Sam gathered him in his arms and kissed him again, hot and hard, his tongue working its way deep into Dean’s mouth. _Okay. You can fuck me._ Feeling that Dean was apprehensive about having pushed him, Sam flashed him a mental picture of them against the car. _I liked you behind me, and the images you’re showing me do not disturb me. Let’s try it._

The day Dean found out he’d do almost anything for him, Sam’s life as he knew it would be over. So he did his best not to let his wayward ward know these things.

* * *

Dean was relieved when Samuel reassured him that he wasn’t afraid that Dean would hurt him. Even though the young man was certain that he would have felt fear, if that was the case, some things were still reassuring to hear aloud.

He smiled then, letting his lover strip him, letting his hands roam over Samuel’s body. Wrapping his arms around the angel and moaning into the kiss, pressing himself eagerly up against his lover. Feeling a flash of heat wash over him, his cock twitching against Sam’s stomach eagerly when the angel agreed to try it. For him.

Dean kissed his lover harder, excitement and pleasure making him eager and he didn’t waste any more time tugging Sam over to their bed and pushing the angel down on it. Quickly following his lover, straddling Sam’s waist and rubbing their erections together, still kissing him, until the need for air finally forced them apart.

The young man pushed himself up, rubbing his hands up and down the angel’s chest, for a moment just savoring the sight of Sam spread out beneath him. Willing to let him do this even though he was a little nervous. Then something else Samuel had said had the young man grinning.

“So, you think I might not be as good as you?” Dean asked, quirking his eyebrow, choosing to be amused rather than offended at the implication, because he knew that’s not what Samuel had meant. He still enjoyed teasing the angel however. Leaning over Sam he tugged open their bedside drawer that was always well stocked now with ‘supplies’, and grabbed a new tube of lube.

“Guess I’ll just have to take that as a challenge.” The young man said in that low lustful tone he knew Sam loved as he leaned in to kiss his lover hard again. Dean rubbed his dick teasingly against the angel’s stomach a few times before he climbed off of him, giving a playful but firm smack to his lover’s thigh. “Roll over, baby.”

* * *

No matter how long they did it, their kisses were always too short for Samuel. Just as he was about to insist on fusing their mouths together again, Dean straddled his waist, causing him to groan as their erections rubbed together. It felt so good. So damned good when Dean stroked his chest. So damned good to see the hunger in his lover’s eyes.

Then Dean was teasing again, but Sam could barely react because his Dean's ass ground into him hard as he leaned to get something out of the drawer. “I’m sure you’re up to the challenge,” he answered weakly, feeling Dean’s arousal pricking his stomach and making him want more.

He blinked at the unexpected slap on his thigh. “This is highly unusual treatment for an angel,” he said, giving his lover a mock glare, but doing exactly as he asked and rolling over onto his stomach. How many times had Dean rolled over for him just like this? Sam could easily imagine how much he wanted to be inside him, and what the wait was costing him.

Looking over his shoulder, he smiled. “Happy birthday.” _I feel like I should have a bow on my ass. Sigh…_  


* * *

Dean grinned in amusement at Samuel’s reply to his spanking. Unusual or not, Dean had to admit it was pretty damn hot. It wasn’t as if the angel hadn’t threatened to do the same to him several times, whenever he was ‘bad’. Maybe he might just have to take the angel up on his ‘offer’ sometime. For an angel, Samuel had turned out to be surprisingly inventive and kinky in bed.

Surprisingly his naughty thoughts fled him completely when Samuel rolled over onto his stomach, just as Dean had asked him, and all he could think about was how beautiful his lover was. That broad muscled back, well toned perfect ass, just waiting for him. Waiting for him to make love to him, and when Samuel said, “Happy Birthday,” the younger man’s heart clenched even as his dick throbbed in anticipation.

Fuck, he felt nervous and excited at the same time. Well aware of the gift that Samuel was giving to him. Despite what he liked to believe, that Samuel was his first real lover, the real truth was that he’d lost his virginity long before he’d ever met the angel. Samuel was not his first, though he would be the angel’s.

Dean ran his hand lovingly down the length of Sam’s back, laughing in spite of himself at the angel’s thought about a bow on his ass. The young man leaned down to press his lips softly to his lover’s right cheek, gently squeezing the left before straddling the angel’s thighs again. Wondering if Sam had purposefully said that to help him relax, maybe, maybe not, but it worked anyway.

He opened the lube and squeezed a fair amount into his hand. Rubbing them together to warm it up before sliding his fingers between his lover’s cheeks, finding the hot puckered hole and moaning as he circled it teasingly. Running a hand gently along Sam’s back, leaning in to press a kiss between his shoulder blades as he gently eased a finger into his lover. Gasping softly at the incredible tight heat, his dick leaking a little at just the thought of feeling it wrapped around him.

“You know, I’ve always wondered where your wings go when I can’t see them.” Dean whispered, nipping a little at the skin at the base of the angel’s neck as he pushed his finger in a little deeper. “Mmm… spread your legs a little more…”

* * *

The brush of Dean’s warm mouth over his ass had Sam sighing softly. Then Dean’s hard cock was pressing into the back of his thigh, and he was slowly working his hole with his finger, making it almost impossible for Sam to concentrate on his words.

“Hmmm? My wings?” He bit his lower lip and widened his legs, arching up a little at the strange, and yet familiar sensation of being touched from the inside. Suddenly, he found himself anxious to have Dean inside him, buried to the hilt and whispering his name in _that voice._ Whimpering slightly, he braced on his elbows and looked back over his shoulder, his face close to Dean’s now.

Telling himself to focus on Dean’s question, he clenched his fist around some of the bed covers. “You want to see them?” Slightly amused, despite the storm of other emotions and desires crashing through his system, Sam unfurled his wings high above Dean’s head. “But don’t touch between them. Against the rules,” he said, lips quirking slightly until Dean hit his sweet spot and had him groaning. “More.”

* * *

When Samuel asked him if he wanted to see his wings, Dean was a bit surprised by the offer. His question had been born of curiosity but it had also been mainly rhetorical too. He hadn’t really been expecting Sam to show him but Dean wasn’t about to refuse however because he always loved seeing Samuel as he truly was. His lover was always gorgeous but Dean had to admit he was even more breathtaking when his wings were visible.

He knew Samuel was amused by that, Dean’s fascination with his wings, he could feel it leaking over the bond now, but he didn’t really care, it was still true. So he nodded eagerly, leaning back a little bit and then suddenly he could see them. It always amazed him, because it was like they were always there even though he couldn’t see or even feel them but between one blink and the next they were visible to him. Someday he’d have to get Samuel to explain how that worked, but certainly not right now.

Right now the young man was too busy being completely turned on, as though he wasn’t already, by the erotic vision in front of him. Samuel lying on his stomach, his legs spread and his ass raised, his wings wide, and Dean’s finger buried deep inside of him. Moaning in pleasure and begging for more. Fuck, but that was so completely hot, and in a completely sacrilegious way, Dean was sure.

Dean didn’t really care if he were going straight to hell after this, as he gave his lover what he asked for. Spreading the lube around and stroking his finger in and out of the angel’s tight body. Moaning softly as he curled his finger and felt the spike of pleasure travel across their bond as he touched Samuel the way he himself loved to be touched.

He let his fingertips drift through the soft downy feathers of one of Samuel’s wings. It seemed somehow strange now that he’d never really taken the time to explore them before now. Maybe a part of him _had_ thought it sacrilegious, as though everything else they’d done wasn’t, and Dean almost wanted to laugh. Well, he was going to make up for that now he decided. Quirking an eyebrow when the angel told him not to touch between them. Against the rules?

“More stupid rules?” Dean asked with more than a little amusement. Easing another finger into his lover as his hand drifted down the edge of Sam’s wing to where it met his body. Brushing his fingers over the spot curiously when his eyes widened and he gasped sharply at the intense feeling that surged over their bond.

“Fuck!” Dean gasped, almost breathless, it felt like every nerve ending in his body had just been electrified with pleasure.

* * *

He’d expected Dean’s irreverence, and his refusal to adhere to that rule. What Sam hadn’t expected was the mind numbing intensity of pleasure that had him cursing with Dean. A pained groan followed, as he tried to process the new sensations coursing through his body. His wings fluttered, then steadied above their heads.

With his heart was slamming against his chest in anticipation, Samuel waited for Dean to move his fingers again, and simultaneously touch his wings, raising his ass in blatant invitation. _Dean, when you fuck me… kiss me there,_ he asked, not rushing his lover, but afraid he wouldn’t be able to make the request later, once his mind scattered to the winds. _The thought of your mouth there…_ Sam showed him how weak, and hot it made him feel. Even before Dean touched him again, flames danced over Sam’s skin, burning him up.

* * *

Dean was still breathing heavily, staring down at his lover with an expression of almost wonder as he tried to wrap his mind around what he’d felt. Fuck, that was positively evil, and so intense. He’d never felt anything like it, and he probably never would have without the link he and Samuel shared. Who would have thought an angel’s wings were an erogenous zone? Dean was quite certain they’d never taught that at Sunday school.

The young man realized he was just sitting there, his senses reeling, not doing anything, when Samuel began to squirm under him. Pushing back against his fingers buried in his ass and Dean groaned. Both at the feeling of his lover’s thigh rubbing against his erection and the request the angel made of him. His cock already leaking in anticipation.

“That is most definitely a stupid rule.” Dean said as he eagerly he began to pump his fingers in and out of his lover’s tight hole, scissoring gently, as he ran his fingers soothingly through the soft hair at the back of the angel’s neck. His fingertips trialing lightly downwards over Sam’s back, between his shoulder blades following his spine.

Moaning softly as a shiver of pleasure worked its way through his body as they neared the base of Sam’s wings, though they didn’t linger there long. Moving all the way down to the swell of his lover’s buttocks before grasping Sam’s hip. Holding him steady as Dean pressed his lips to the small of the angel’s back and let his tongue trail upwards following the same path while he worked a third finger into his lover’s body.

Oh god, he didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to wait. He was so hard he hurt. His cock leaking a steady stream of precome where it was pressed tightly against his lover’s skin. So hot, but he wanted to feel the even more intense heat of Sam wrapped around his cock, wanted it so badly, but Sam still felt so tight. Was he ready? As much as he’d done this himself he thought he should be able to tell, but Dean also remembered the very first time it had happened to him and there was no way he wanted Sam to feel pain like that.

“Are you ready?” Dean finally whispered huskily, pressing soft kisses to the back of the angel’s neck.

* * *

Every part of Sam was electrified, overly sensitized, so that each touch was amplified. The way Dean’s thighs clenched around him and the press of his arousal drove him wild with thoughts of how it would be once Dean was inside him. God he wanted that. Then Dean’s hands and mouth were trailing over his spine, sending little tremors through his body. He started to pant. To jerk his hips. To mentally beg Dean to stop teasing.

“Oh G-- yes, please Dean, now.” He reached around and put his hand over Dean’s ass and back, pushing him, urging him. “Can’t hurt me Dean... do it.” His mind filled with images of Dean pushing into him, and he was lost. _Yes... yes please._

A groan broke from the back of his throat as Dean finally mounted him. His cock, lodged at his entrance, teasing him as he nudged. So hard, Dean was so hard, and Sam wanted him inside. Wanted to know what it would be like to hold Dean’s cock, clench around it in a whole new way. He didn’t know it, but he was practically fucking the mattress as he pleaded again with Dean.

* * *

“Oh fuck… Samuel…” Dean groaned when the angel tugged him closer, the combination of his lover’s mental and vocal pleas, the feelings traveling across their bond as Sam rubbed his cock in the already sticky sheets beneath him, and fucked himself back on Dean’s fingers almost sent the young man straight over the edge. Samuel was going to make him blow his load before he was even inside the angel if he didn’t get inside of him now.

Lust almost completely eradicating his nervousness Dean withdrew his fingers from Samuel’s body. Wrapping his fingers around himself instead with a whimper and a shudder, the feel of his own hand almost unbearable, as he slid it along his heavy length. Smearing his own fluids along his cock to slick himself. Pulling Samuel onto his knees and wasting no more time then pressing his cock against his tight slick hole.

“I love you.” Dean whispered as he held his lover’s hip and steadied himself as he carefully began to press himself inside. Moaning helplessly at the familiar and at the same time completely new feelings flowing over him and through them. But this time it was him inside Samuel, the angel’s body accepting him smoothly inside that exquisite heat despite how tight he felt.

“Oh god, Samuel, so good… feels so good…” The young man gasped unnecessarily because Samuel would be able to feel how good it was for him just as he could feel how good it was for the angel. Would know how fucking amazing it felt to be buried balls deep inside the angel’s body as Dean draped himself over Sam’s back, running his hands possessively along the angel’s hips, buttocks, back, and shoulders. Kissing the angel’s neck as he began to slowly move his hips, drawing out shallowly before filling Sam to the hilt again.

“Love you… love you…” Dean whispered over and over as he quickly picked up a rhythm, then began to quicken his pace, thrusting harder into his lover. Desire and the knowledge neither of them were going to last long like this driving his actions as he pressed hot open mouthed kisses down along the angel’s back. Trailing his fingers through the angel’s soft feathers, absolutely loving how they fluttered beneath his hands, another indication of the intense pleasure Samuel felt with him. Groaning helplessly as he pressed his lips to the soft skin where the angel’s wing met his body. The overload of pleasure filling every one of his senses almost too much.

_Love you, love you so much._   


* * *

Sam instinctively arched his back and neck as Dean pushed inside him in a fluid move. A small sound broke from him as he stretched to accommodate Dean, but there wasn’t any pain. Just fullness, a sense of being complete... of being joined with his love... someone he would trust with his life.

A smile formed when Dean rested on top of him for a moment, both of them getting used to and enjoying the new sensations... or the same sensations but from a different point of view. _I’m not gonna break, Dean,”_ he teased, moving back and impaling himself on Dean’s cock.

“Holy moth...” he bit down on is lip, drawing blood to prevent himself from committing further blasphemy. “Oh... Dean, good ... so good, more, more,” he demanded, clenching himself tighter around his lover. White bolts of heat went through his system as Dean started to rhythmically pump his hips, short shallow thrusts that blinded him to the sudden deep thrusts that had him crying out with pleasure.

He loved the way Dean touched him, so sure, so firmly, hands running up and down his body without hesitation. Sensing a bit of possessively, and trying not to think of how close he was to coming already, Sam tried to joke. _You know Angel’s can’t be owned._

All humor scattered when Dean touched him where his wings were attached, first with his hands, then with his mouth. The energy that flowed between them was so strong, he realized for the first time that even if Dean weren’t buried into him, even if he weren’t fucking him so hard... just his touch, right there... they could both get off on just that. He mewled at the thought, sharing it with his lover, and begging him for release.

They both started to move in earnest, climbing toward release. Their skin slapped together, grunts filling the air around them. The need to come was so acute, Sam wanted to shout. Dean must have sensed it because he was moving like a piston now, relentless, getting them there.

Sam screwed his eyes shut as he listened to Dean telling him he loved him, and even that was said to the rhythm of their fucking. “Yes... yes....”

White hot heat lanced through Sam. His back stiffened, his balls drawing up tight at he spilled is seed across his own belly and on the sheet below. _Dean..._ He felt his lover jerk and shudder inside him, felt his fingers bite into his skin as he came.

Panting, Sam kept moving, trying to help Dean wring out the last moments of pleasure, answering him, “love you too. Love you so hard, Dean.”

* * *

Feeling his lover’s body tighten like a vice around his cock as he shuddered and spilled his seed without Dean ever touching his cock, not to mention the whispered words of love echoed in his mind as well as aloud, was all the younger man needed to push him over the edge. Dean’s fingers dug into the angel’s hips hard, groaning against the back of the angel’s neck as his cock pulsed deep inside his lover. Ripples of shared pleasure shaking them both as they continued to move, though at a less desperate pace, drawing it out for what seemed like forever, and as always Dean never felt so perfectly complete as when they were like this.

Joined together body and soul… god he was such a girl after a mind blowing orgasm.

“I think I owned you pretty good.” Dean chuckled softly against the back of his lover’s neck, wrapping his arms tightly around Sam’s chest, unwilling to break the contact between them just yet even as he grew soft. Loving the feel of the angel’s soft feathers tickling against his chest and sides, oh yes, after today he could definitely say he had a wing kink.

He imagined taking the time to explore every inch of the long white feathers, and especially the place on the angel’s back where it was so damned sensitive. Fuck, he never would have imagined. God certainly had a twisted sense of humor, making it a sin for angels to fuck and then making their wings that damn sensitive. That was just fucked up.

“We have to do that again, really, really soon.”

* * *

Crossing his hands over Dean’s forearms, Samuel leaned back against his lover and smiled. “You’re such a braggart, Dean.”

He was trying to catch his breath and his heart was still a bit out of control when sifting through Dean’s mind, he saw images of Dean concentrating only on his wings and keeping him squirming on the bed. His throat constricted, and he croaked out his answer. “And a rebel, such a rebel.” The more ‘wrong’ anything was, the more Dean wanted to go there!

Sam gave a weak laugh. “I don’t know if I could survive it, anyway. Remind me not to teach you ‘stuff.’” He was content, so content. He had everything anyone could ever want, everything. “I wish... I wish this moment would last forever.”

He swallowed, and forced his mind away from Dean’s mortality. Hadn’t he lectured humans often enough on the importance of enjoying the gifts of each day and of accepting the natural order of things?

Patting Dean’s thigh twice, he eased forward until Dean had pulled out of him, and then he turned and rolled over on top with his wings spread high above them as he kissed Dean senseless, riding on the pleasure of his lover, using it to forget. _Happy Birthday. I’m looking forward to celebrating many more._  


* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin as Sam called him a rebel and a braggart. He kind of liked the sound of that.

But when the angel began to ease away from him Dean moaned softly in disappointment as he gently pulled out of his lover. Like Samuel he wished this moment could have lasted longer, forever, and he didn’t even care how sappy that sounded.

His disappointment was brief however when Samuel flipped them around and pushed him onto his back. A surprised laugh muffled by the angel’s lips and then the young man moaned deeply into his lover’s mouth. Wrapping his arms around Sam’s back and arching beneath the angel, rubbing himself wantonly against his lover, and running his hands possessively along the Samuel’s back and over his beautiful wings.

_My birthday isn’t over yet…_ He reminded the angel. Fully intending to “celebrate” all day and night long.


	12. Chapter 12

  
The sewers.    


  
"Just where I wanted to spend a Friday night." Dean grumbled under his breath, barely managing to fight back his gag reflex as he sloshed through a puddle of something he didn't even _want_ to know what it was. He'd only been down here for a little while and his jeans were already soaked through up to his knees with rancid water. He feared he'd never be able to wash the smell off him, and his boots had to be ruined. Sloshing disgustingly with every step he took. 

No, this was definitely _not_ where he'd wanted to spend his Friday night. Why did the fucking things have to make their home in dark, wet, disgusting places… hence the sewers? Matabiri… fucking ugly swamp spirits. The damn things usually weren't seen out of places like Louisiana, or other swampy locations, but a batch of them had taken up residence underneath the hospital right in the center of San Francisco. 

It was said if you were sick and a Matabiri touched you then death was certain. A higher than normal mortality rate at the hospital and descriptions from patients who'd managed to avoid being killed by the things had clued Dean into them... ok so he'd read about it in an article, in the Inquirer no less, course the doctors just thought the patients were delusional. Dean had decided to check it out on his way home from work tonight and was regretting every minute of it.

Holding his gun loaded with the blessed iron rounds out in front of him, even though he could barely make out three feet in front of him in the darkness, Dean moved deeper through the winding tunnels underneath the hospital. He'd been down here for almost an hour and all he'd seen so far was rats.

Irony never failed to surprise him, as soon as he thought that Dean heard a splash from his right that was definitely larger than a rat. The young man froze, waiting, listening. Forgetting about the stink and the cold rancid water up to his knees, his heart pounding harder in his chest so loud he almost couldn't hear anything else. Then he heard the angry shriek in the darkness and Dean turned, took aim, and fired just like Bobby taught him. His shot hitting the matabiri square in the chest where it fell down dead at his feet. 

***

Another two hours and three more matabiri dead Dean crawled out of the manhole he'd pried open earlier to get into the sewer. Feeling more disgusting than he'd ever felt in his life but also more elated than he ever would have believed possible. It was his first real hunt, well, by himself. The last few months Bobby had decided to take up his old trade and taken him along on a few minor jobs. A relatively harmless haunting, then a nasty little poltergeist, and a fucking zombie all in the last month alone. But this was the first job Dean had found and done himself and he couldn't wait to tell the older hunter about it. 

Dean was actually digging around in his pocket for his cell phone to call Bobby when he realized he must have dropped it somewhere down in the mucky sewers because it wasn't in his pocket. That was about the same time he realized he hadn't even called Samuel to let him know he'd be home late.

"Shit!" He muttered under his breath as he took off in a run for their apartment. Just imagining how pissed his lover was going to be, and not looking forward to it.    


* * *

It had taken everything Samuel had to keep himself from interfering. He was glad he'd been successful, because he'd seen... once again... how competent Dean was at this hunter business. Yeah, he'd hated that Dean was entering the business, but later, he'd realized it was for selfish reasons. He just couldn't stand the thought of his lover in that much danger.

The truth was, this was Dean's calling. And as Michael had once pointed out to him, there was no faster way to redemption than fighting evil head on. A lifetime of good citizenship and true regret was what it might take for Dean to find a place in heaven after having tried to kill himself, but as a hunter, a couple of years was what it might take.

Over the past year, Sam had done everything he could to give Dean the advantage in any fight. There were funds to get the best weapons out there, though many times the best was home-made equipment. Martial arts lessons, private lessons with an ex-marine and an ex SAS specialist, and anything else that Sam could think of. Dean could be stubborn and rebellious, but Sam had to give him credit for putting in the hard work without complaint. For going to all of his lessons and mostly for taking care not to take risks he wasn't ready for.

However, calling in to say he'd be late or was stuck somewhere, or to give him a mental warning... that he could still use work on. He gave a quiet sigh, doubting if it were something that would ever change.

"What's wrong?"

Sam shook his head, raising his brow at the intense look in Gabriel's eyes. "Nothing. The plan sounds—"

"You looked distracted. It's Dean, he's talking to you in your head again, isn't he?"

Sam shook his head 'no.' "He forgot to let me know he'll be late, so I'm sure he'll avoid any contact until he gets here. Why are you obsessed with him?" There was steel beneath his smile.

"I'm not, it's you. I want to be sure you're at the top of your game."

"When have I not been?" Samuel sat back and practically glared at Gabriel, daring him to be able to give a single example.

"Alright. But he's trouble. Every time I see him, my hackles rise."

"That makes two of you." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sam rubbed his eyes. That was when he felt Dean's approach.

_We have company._ He mentally warned, without looking at the door, or at the plastic he'd spread leading from the door straight to the bathroom,

The door opened, but neither angel turned toward it immediately.

"I understand the plan, Gabriel. Has anyone figured out what this cloaking ability is?"

"Negative," Gabriel turned his unfriendly blue eyes onto Dean, his nose wrinkling slightly.

Sam turned his head and laughed. "You look like a drowned rat. It's a good thing you don't have a date, you'd be in big trouble."

* * *

Dean had made sure to enter the apartment building from the back way, since it wasn’t so late that no one would see him coming in and he definitely didn’t need to be running in to anyone who knew him looking, not to mention smelling, like he did. He could lie about what he’d been doing, sure. Like he dropped his keys down a sewer grate, or something, but he’d rather not have to deal with anyone at all. He just wanted a shower and then to spend the rest of the evening with his lover… well… after he used some creative means to make Samuel forgive him for being late again without calling. Though Dean was certain the only reason the angel got half as pissy with him as he did was because he liked it when Dean made it up to him.

The young man wasn’t really surprised, but he still wasn’t exactly expecting the ‘warning’ from Samuel before he even got his key into the door. He didn’t remember Sam telling him about any kind of company they were having tonight, especially since they usually spent Friday nights alone together, but when Dean opened the door he understood. Frowning seeing the other angel sitting in the living room with Samuel.

Gabriel, he probably should have known. By now Dean had _almost_ gotten used to the other angels who liked to drop in on them unannounced. Michael Dean didn’t mind, hell, he even liked him a bit. He wasn’t nearly as laid back as Samuel but at least he didn’t act like he had a ten foot pole shoved way up his ass, Gabriel on the other hand…

He couldn’t stand the angel, the feeling was mutual, and neither of them bothered to hide it. Despite the many times Samuel had scolded him for being rude, or downright disrespectful, towards the other angel, Dean didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t going to kiss the other angel’s ass, and if Gabriel was going to treat him like he was scum under his boot, fuck him. Only because they both cared about Samuel they’d pretty much come to an unspoken agreement to avoid each other as much as possible when they were forced to share the same space.

Which was why Dean only replied, “I’m gonna take a shower.” To Samuel, and started to head that way with only a slightly raised eyebrow at the plastic already laid out on the floor to the bathroom. He’d stopped being surprised by the things Samuel sometimes just knew a long time ago.

_Let me know when he’s gone._ He added as he closed the bathroom door behind him, walking straight into the shower with all his clothes on, and turned the water on. He stripped down inside the shower to avoid making an even bigger mess and sighed underneath the hot spray as he began washing himself vigorously.

* * *

Seeing Gabriel’s stony expression, Samuel sighed. _You could have said hello._

Predictably, Gabriel pointed toward the door to the hall. “He’s rude, self impressed, and you let him walk all over you. You clean up after him, cook, provide everything and he contributes noth—“

“You don’t know that.” A muscle started to throb in Sam’s jaw.

“Samuel—“

“Gabriel, mind your own business. I don’t tell you how to run your life, who to have as friends—“

“HE’s your friend? He’s a user, and—“

Samuel got up, his expression growing dark and forbidding. “He lives here, this is his place too, and I won’t have you talking about him like that anymore than I’ll allow him to talk about you.”

Gabriel shot up. “You are comparing a human to an Angel.”

Looking down and mentally counting to keep a rein on his temper, Sam stared to head for the door and opened it. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Gabriel. I need to get some sleep.”

Watching him for a long moment, Gabriel nodded. He gave Sam a hug, whispering in his ear. “It’s only because I care. You’re too kind.”

Yeah, like now… when he was letting Gabriel hold him. Now that he realized there was more to the other Angel’s touches. Now that he’d felt things first hand with Dean, and knew what would be going through his own mind if he were holding Dean like this. Still, it had always been this way between him and Gabe, and any sudden changes might cause more trouble.

Dropping a quick kiss on Gabriel’s cheek, he pulled away. “I know.” He slapped him on the shoulder. “You worry too much. And I am _not_ naïve. Show some respect for an Angel almost as old as you.”

“You should tell that to your… your ward.” Gabriel walked out, turning to look at Sam once again. “You have _my_ respect.”

Once he closed the door, Sam rubbed his eyes. He hated being stuck between those two, it made him feel like he’d run a marathon or twenty. One more sigh, and he headed for the kitchen. _He’s gone, you can come out now._  


* * *

Dean had scrubbed his body down with soap and washed his hair three times before he was satisfied he wouldn’t come out of the shower smelling like a sewer rat. Feeling a hundred times better once he was clean, Dean sighed as he rolled his shoulders and turned up the water just a little hotter to ease the slight ache in his muscles. He was tired but he felt good, just like he always did after a hunt no matter how bruised up he might get. Knowing he’d done something good, worthwhile, and saved people’s lives.

It sure as hell hadn’t been easy, the training had been pretty brutal at first, but it had been well worth it. Samuel had stopped being so resistant about the whole idea and started helping him get the training and tools he’d need. Sam had spared no expense getting him the best teachers and equipment, and Dean had wondered more than once where all the money came from, and how loaded Samuel really was. But he supposed living forever had its advantages, like a healthy bank account. Though Samuel still refused when he’d asked to go with the angel a few times to complete his own “work”, and also refused to help them outright whenever he went out with Bobby.

Still on more than one occasion he knew Samuel had been there. Just a feeling, or something Samuel would mention when he got home and he’d know. Dean wished Samuel would just stop being so damn stubborn about it, if he was going to watch he could at least help, but it was like the angel was afraid if he helped him outright on a hunt that would be encouragement or permission to keep on hunting, and he knew the angel was still hoping he’d give it all up.

_Good timing._ Dean thought, since he’d been reaching to shut off the water faucet even as he heard Sam’s head’s up that Gabriel had gone. Stepping out of the shower the young man reached for a towel and began drying himself off, leaving his wet clothes hanging up in the shower for now to dry a little before he threw them in the hamper. Hell, on second thought, he should probably just throw them away, save the trouble of trying to wash the stink out of them.

He could feel Sam’s frustration and upset over their bond and Dean did feel a little bit guilty about that, knowing he was to blame as much as Gabriel was, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. The other angel had nothing but contempt for him since the moment they’d met and if possible it had only grown the longer he had lived with Samuel. Nothing he did or said would ever change that. The other angel was determined to hate him, and he knew why.

Dean knew the other angel was jealous and had his suspicions about them, but he didn’t have proof. They meant to keep it that way, but sometimes he really wished he could just rub it in the angel’s face that he and Samuel were lovers. He didn’t really care what the other angel thought of him, but he’d just love to see him knocked off his high horse, to know that Samuel would never love him because he loved Dean.

He wrapped his towel around his waist as he left the bathroom, not bothering to go to his room to change since they didn’t have “company” anymore. On his way to the kitchen Dean paused in the living room when his eyes fell on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Dean knew he hadn’t forgotten it at home, knew he’d had it when he’d left work, and there could be only one reason why it was sitting there instead of lost down some sewer pipe. Dean sighed as he continued to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway and folding his arms across his chest as he watched Sam with a raised eyebrow.

“You know, if you’re going to follow me around anyway, you could at least let me know you’re there. So I don’t accidentally stake you one day.” Dean said with a slight grin.

* * *

Sam sensed Dean’s conflicted emotions and thoughts about Gabriel. Well that made three of them, he thought. Weirdest triangle ever. Right, it wasn’t even a triangle.

He heard Dean pad over, and smiled at his threat, though he didn’t turn around as he finished loading up the baked potatoes the way Dean liked them. Once he was done, he picked up both plates and walked to the doorway, letting his gaze slide appreciatively up and down Dean’s bare chest. “You smell much better now,” leaning in, he kissed him lightly on the mouth, then pushed past into the dining room.

He sat down at the table, fully expecting Dean to take a seat even in his state of undress. That boy did not know the meaning of ‘shy,’ and Sam had to admit he loved that about him. He cleared his throat and met flashing green eyes. If he had to guess, he’d say either Dean read his thoughts and was amused, or he was irritated by the non-response about following him on his hunts.

“Actually, I’m going on a mission tonight and I was going to ask if you want to come. Leaving at four in the morning,” he tilted his head to the side, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

* * *

Dean rolled his eyes when Sam ignored his comment completely, instead simply telling him he smelled better. He was a bit irritated though the young man couldn’t really complain about how his lover looked at him, or kissed him. Following the angel into the dining area and taking a seat across from him he began eating. Only realizing now just how hungry he’d been.

He also didn’t fail to notice how Sam kept looking at him, picking up his lover’s thoughts and Dean looked up with a slight grin. Wondering if tonight they’d even get to their bedroom or if Sam was going to do him right on the table again.

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted when Sam mentioned the mission he’d have to do tonight, he should have known that’s why Gabriel had been here. But he was even more surprised when Samuel asked him if he wanted to go. He’d been asking Sam for months to take him with him, hating it whenever Sam left alone to face whatever danger there was without him, but the angel had always flat out refused. Leaving him home to wait and worry. Now to have Samuel ask him out of the blue, he was so stunned he could only stare at the angel for a few moments before answering.

“Yes, I want to go.” Dean answered despite a slight mental groan at the hour. “What is the mission? Where are we going?” He asked, almost forgetting about his meal now.

* * *

Sam laughed outright at Dean’s reaction to having to get up early. An early bird, his lover was not. “You know if you go to bed right after we eat, you’ll have more than enough sleep. I’m serious, it won’t kill you to miss Queer as Folk one night.” He was semi-convinced Dean liked to watch it because it had so much sex and it sometimes made Sam squirm. “Besides, you can DVR it, and then watch it… alone.”

He took a bite of his food and raised a brow, “eat.” He didn’t even have to read Dean’s mind to know it was filled with a thousand questions. “Egypt. You remember that tainted net that spread at the first battle you saw through my eyes? We’re calling that material a ‘black hole’ for lack of a better term, but it’s made of pure evil. An angel who didn’t see it was sucked right in, and others who fight on our side…” he gave a heavy sigh. “There’s a darkness in Egypt so we’re doing a sweep. You saw it first last time.”

Yeah, he could insist that Dean look through his eyes, the way he had that time. Every time he went away on a mission, he knew Dean stayed completely connected, watching, giving his two cents when it wouldn’t distract him. Sam had come to trust Dean’s instincts, and of course his lover was now a hunter in his own right. He’d earned the right.

“Anyway, I thought maybe you’d sense or see something again.” He looked at the wall beyond Dean, then back at him. “A consensus is forming that this is the work of Cain.”

* * *

Dean had to resist making a rather rude gesture when Samuel laughed at him and pointed out if he went to bed early he could get up early with no problem. Well, that wasn’t the point, it was the principal of the thing.

Though it did amuse him when the angel mentioned him recording Queer as Folk to watch later on without Samuel. He didn’t understand how, after all the things they’d done together, that show still made the angel squirm when they watched it together. Though maybe it had something to do with all the little mental pictures or suggestions they try certain things he’d let travel across their bond. Damn sex was always great after that show.

Dean started eating again, even though he’d almost lost interest by that point with all the questions he wanted to ask Samuel.

Egypt? They were going all the way there? It was hard to believe that by morning tomorrow he and Samuel were going to be in fucking Egypt, half way around the world. He nodded when Sam mentioned the first time he saw Samuel go into battle. That net, thing, that had almost imprisoned Sam and the other angels. If Samuel hadn’t believed him… a small shiver went down his spine when the angel described what had happened to others. What would have happened to Sam if Dean hadn’t seen it.

Hell yes, he definitely wanted to be there now.

“Who’ Cain?”

* * *

Sam tensed at the question, not because he was afraid, but he didn’t want to get Dean anxious. “Cain... Cain is the worst of the worst. San Diego,” his eyes met Dean’s. _There’s nothing to worry about, we’re prepared for him now._

Sam ate another mouthful of his food, watching Dean carefully. “We’ve faced him before and locked him away for eons. We’ll do it again.” He launched into a few more details about how each of the four angels that were being dispatched would separately sweep the area, looking for signs of the darkness

Of course he had hopes that when they found it, maybe standing on its very edge, he would be able to sense the angel they’d lost. The cold vacuum in that angel’s place in the world hurt, even if Sam hadn’t known him personally.

* * *

Samuel might have tried to hide it, but they’d shared thoughts and feeling for far too long for Dean not to pick up the slight change in his lover’s mood his question caused. Cain. San Diego. The night Samuel had almost died. Cain was the one who’d almost killed his lover.

He really wanted to believe Samuel’s reassurances, that there was nothing to be worried about, that the angels were prepared for this Cain person… thing… whatever he was. But Dean could still clearly remember the fear he’d felt that night. Feeling Samuel’s pain. Cain had nearly buried Samuel under tons of rock and then left him to drown. Another few minutes and Samuel would have been dead…

It had been almost a full year since he’d first come to live with Samuel. For nearly a year Cain had obviously slipped through the angels grasps. If they were so ready for him, why hadn’t they caught and banished him already?

They finished their meal while Dean listened to Samuel as he told him about the plan the angels had in place. It seemed like a decent enough plan, Dean understood his part, for the most part. When they finished dinner the young man helped Sam clear the table but he tugged the angel away from the sink and out of the kitchen before his lover could start doing the dishes that could easily be left for when they got back. He swore, sometimes Samuel’s obsession with neatness got on his nerves sometimes.

“Let’s just go to bed.” Dean said, leading the angel to their bedroom, not taking no for an answer. Only once they were there did he turn to face Samuel, wrapping his arms around the angel as he leaned in to taste his lips with a groan. Pressing and rubbing his body up against the angel, his towel loosening a little as he did. Sliding one hand up underneath Samuel’s shirt, rubbing the angel’s back slowly while he kissed his lover deeply.

* * *

“Dean,” Sam gave a half hearted protest. His love could talk him into almost anything, even leaving the dishes in the sink ... something that bothered him to no end... the thought of a full sink. “Mmm,” yeah, once Dean’s arms were around him, Sam couldn’t really think anymore.

Sam ran his hand up and down Dean’s back, cupping the side of his neck as they kissed, their tongues weaving in and out of each others’ mouths. Hot, so hot... Dean's affect on him still amazed Sam. Every kiss was like the first time, every caress ingrained in his memory, every moan treasured. He loved him, more than he should. He lusted for him, more than he should. He couldn't help it, couldn't fight it... didn't want to. Now he understood why humans died in the name of love, why they started wars and why so much literature was dedicated to it. The only thing he didn't understand was how anyone who found a treasure like this could tire of it, and move on to look for deeper waters. _Have I told you lately how much I love you?_ Dragging him closer, he groaned as the knot in Dean's towel pressed into his stomach, above another hard knot which was all flesh and blood. He moved his free hand down, gripping the towel right above the curve of Dean’s ass as it started to fall off.

Pulling back, he let his eyes rove over his lover, groaning slightly as thoughts of tumbling him on the bed and fucking him senseless got him harder, and he couldn’t even tell whose thoughts those were. “You need sleep,” he nodded, trying to sound stern. “And pajamas... definitely pajamas.”

* * *

“Not lately…” Dean replied, grinning teasingly and then moaning appreciatively when his lover drew him even closer. He ran his hands over the angel’s shoulders and down Samuel’s back before slipping his hands underneath the waistband of Sam’s jeans, teasing over the soft skin and firm muscles he found there.

He easily picked up on his lover’s thoughts, his desires, and Dean couldn’t help but echo Samuel’s groan. The young man made a small sound of complaint however when he felt his towel begin to slip off his hips and the angel’s hand grip the edge of it, stopping it.

“You know, I’ll sleep a lot better after you fuck me senseless.” He said with a grin, knowing exactly how his dirty mouth affected his lover. Dean moaned again as he leaned in to tease Samuel’s lips with feather light touches of his tongue. Rubbing his already hard and weeping cock even more firmly against the angel, his towel becoming even more precariously situated in the process.

“Want you in me. Want you to fuck me so hard I’ll feel you for days.” Dean whispered hotly against his lover’s lips.

* * *

Dean’s words, whispered in that low husky voice of his, started a firestorm, consuming him with need. Blood pounded in Samuel’s ears, his cock thickened and ached, and he knew he wasn’t going to fight this. Lifting him up hard against his frame so their groins aligned, he melded their mouths together in a hard kiss, stroking his tongue against Dean’s, weaving it in and out, fast and furious.

He pushed the towel down off Dean’s ass, cupping him and squeezing, groaning at the thought of being inside him. Without breaking the kiss, he managed to reach for the lube on the nightstand and was soon easing his finger inside Dean. One step, and the back of Dean’s knees were against the bed.

Sam tugged the towel out from between them and lifted Dean higher as he started to get on the bed on his knees, carrying Dean who was now straddling his hips. His jeans clad cock rubbed against Dean, almost making him curse. _You’re a bad influence,_ he complained, kissing him fiercely again, then moving his mouth to Dean’s throat and sucking on his sensitive skin.

Suddenly, Sam couldn’t bear the clothes he was wearing. They were tight and constricting and were keeping him from apart from Dean. Moving back, he practically ripped his clothes off until he was completely naked. His heated gaze swept over Dean once, from head to foot, and when he met Dean’s eyes, his eyes were dark with lust.

He covered Dean’s body with his own, sliding one hand under his ass and lifting him up possessively as he moved against him. He groaned as he slanted his mouth of Dean’s, needing him so bad he could barely wait. Sliding his hand between them, he closed his fist around Dean’s cock and started to stroke, thrusting his tongue inside Dean’s mouth to the same rhythm. Soon he’d be inside him, crying out his name as he fucked him so hard, he’d feel it the next day.

* * *

Dean moaned in definite approval the way Samuel was suddenly all over him. Kissing him like there was no tomorrow and holding him so tightly he could barely breath. His lover all he could feel, taste, smell… A low groan escaped his throat when the towel around his hips was easily pushed aside and he felt Sam’s hands on his ass. Then he felt a warm slick finger breaching him and his whole body shuddered in pleasure.

_Yes. God, yes. Samuel…_ Dean moaned again as he wrapped his arms around the angel’s shoulders as Samuel lifted him up like he weighed nothing at all. Fuck, it never failed to amaze him, or get him hot, just how strong his lover was. Dean wrapped his legs around the angel’s waist as Samuel got them onto the bed and laid him back. Chuckling softly as he pulled his lips finally away from his lover’s.

“I’m glad I am.” He teased before tilting his head back with a groan as Samuel’s lips and tongue began working their way down his neck. “Fuck, so good…”

Dean watched the angel hungrily as Sam practically ripped his clothes in order to get them off. To get to him. He slid his legs open and arched beneath the angel, rubbing their bodies together, whimpering when Samuel’s hand wrapped around his cock. He fucked into his lover’s hand as he sucked on the angel’s tongue. His fingers twisting in the soft hair at the base of Sam’s skull, digging into the beautiful muscles of his back, trying to get closer. Always closer.

He couldn’t wait. He wanted Samuel inside of him now. Needed him. Still needed him. Would always…

“Now… god Samuel, now please…” Dean panted against his lover’s lips, lifting his hips, begging.

* * *

“Anything,” Samuel answered, his throat raw with hunger and need as he aligned himself and pushed inside Dean in one, swift thrust, breaching him completely and burying himself deep inside his lover. Intense heat flashed between them like a firestorm.

“Dean…” Sam groaned, arching as his lover clenched his muscles around him, squeezing his cock tight. Bracing himself on one elbow, his free hand gripping Dean’s hip and part of his ass, Sam started to thrust. In and out, groaning at the friction that threatened to take him over the edge too soon. Not before he gave Dean what he wanted, what he needed.

Pulling his head back slightly, his gaze locked with Dean’s. His knuckles turned white as he slammed inside Dean again, making sure he hit the bundle of nerves that would make Dean crazy. Again, and again, he thrust in slow, controlled motions, fucking him deeply, making him his all over again.

He showed him with the intensity of his gaze, the depth of his groans, and the glimpses of his emotions, how much he needed him. The urgency, the desperation, the single minded and very un-angelic need to prove to both of them that Dean was his, only his, forever his.

When he could stand even the slight separation no longer, Sam brought his mouth down over Dean’s, kissing him hungrily. He scraped his teeth along Dean’s jaw and throat, and was instantly back to his mouth, his tongue stabbing inside Dean’s, invading the warm silky cavern and claiming it for himself just as he claimed Dean’s body. His heart. And his soul… which he’d dragged back from the very depth’s of hell. 

* * *

“Oh fuck… Samuel…” Dean panted as his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head and he made a sound half between a groan and a whimper when Samuel pushed inside of him in one eager thrust, filling him up to the hilt with his thick hot cock. His muscles almost instinctively clenching, gripping his lover’s flesh tightly deep inside of him. As though he were afraid of losing that contact. As though he never wanted Samuel to leave him, and he didn’t. He sometimes wished they could stay like this forever, as impossible as that was. To be joined physically, their bodies as well as their minds, souls, forever…

Dean almost laughed at himself, he was always such a friggen girl when they had sex, but he couldn’t really help himself. Samuel made him feel this way. Had always made him feel this way, since the moment they’d first met, and he didn’t even mean the sex. When Samuel’s mind had first touched his, when he’d been bleeding to death from his own self inflicted wounds, wanting to die, but somehow just hearing that voice, knowing he wasn’t alone, had made him want to live.

He didn’t know what he would ever do without Samuel. He didn’t want to ever find out.

The expression of pleasure and lust on his lover’s face when the angel began to thrust inside of him was almost enough to send him over the edge that second. Dean groaned and clutched at Sam, his breaths coming out in short quick pants as his lover took him hard and deep. His body eagerly accepting him as it always had. Their combined pleasure washing over him, thoughts of love and devotion flowing between them, until it became impossible to tell which thoughts were who’s, which feelings, which pleasures.

They were one in the same. They had always been one.

“Yes, yes… Samuel… Sam…” The young man gasped when his mouth was free, arching his back and neck to give the angel better access to all of him with his mouth, then whimpering wantonly when his lips were taken again. Exploring Samuel’s mouth like it was the first time. Relearning him again and again.

“Harder… oh god… yes…” He begged unashamedly, lifting his knees and tightening his legs around Samuel’s waist. Trying to draw him even deeper into his body if it were possible. The constant jabbing against his prostate sending jolts of pleasure up and down his body like an electric shock, making him shiver and groan uncontrollably. His cock weeping steadily against his stomach. He wouldn’t last for much longer. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, he just didn’t want it to end.

“Samuel!” Dean practically screamed as his orgasm took him almost by surprise, clutching at the angel in every way possible to keep from thrashing wildly. Pinned beneath his lover’s weight, impaled on his cock, he felt like that was all that was holding him together, keeping him from flying apart at the seams, as rope after rope of come spilled between their bodies.

* * *

Dean’s shout drove Samuel over the edge. He held onto his lover as tightly as Dean clung on to him, fucking him just that little bit harder as he gripped Sam’s shoulders, his fingers digging into his lovers flesh, as he threw his head back and gave voice to his own release. He kissed Dean again, his body still clenching around Sam as the last waves of his climax started to recede.

Then he started to laugh as he eased out of Dean and started to clean them up with a towel. “You said you’d sleep better if I… fucked you senseless,” he forced the words out. “Now keep your end of the bargain, there’s not much time.”

Settling back down on the bed, he spooned behind his naked lover, skimming his mouth over his ear. “Good night.”

* * *

It wasn’t even light when Sam woke Dean and practically carried him to the shower. They argued good naturedly about whether hitting the snooze button for another five minutes would have gained them any more rest. Sam made it up to him in the shower and secretly smiled at the fact that no more complaints were spilling from Dean’s mouth.

They ate their breakfast, and Sam put his armor on. Seeing Dean look at his sword, he shook his head ‘no.’ By now, Dean knew how dangerous it would be to touch it, but that rebellious streak of his showed in his eyes every time the weapon came out.

“They’re here.” Sam immediately pulled away from Dean, and once he let Michael in, no more heated looks were exchanged.

“Samuel.” Michael hugged and kissed him, then turned and gave Dean a hug. “I’m starting to hear good things about you, Winchester.”

“Gabriel has been talking, has he?” Sam asked, leading all three of them to laugh .

Within minutes, they joined the other angels on the street. Sam greeted each of them with a hug and kiss, and knew that Gabriel held him longer than usual because Dean was there. _Please Dean, don’t react. Don’t play the game, you know you’re the only one I want._

Michael went over the plan, they would travel together to Egypt but split up there. “Let’s find him, and send him back to eternal hell.” 

* * *

Samuel coming inside of him, sharing his pleasure, was the always the most amazing thing in the world. So intense. So perfect. Nothing had ever, or would ever, compare.

Dean whimpered softly when his lover eased out of him carefully, and began to clean them both. He always mourned that loss of contact between them no matter how intensely he came, when it was over, it always felt like he was losing a piece of himself no matter how desperately he held onto it… Ok, maybe he did need to stop watching Queer as Folk, if how sappy he was getting was any indication.

The young man couldn’t help but chuckle softly when Sam reminded him of his promise, but Dean nodded. Sighing softly in contentment as the angel slid into the bed behind him and held him close. But despite how pleasant it was, Dean’s mind couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen once they woke. Met the other angels. Egypt… and this Cain person… He’d have to ask Bobby more about it when he saw him next. Hopefully Samuel was right and they were prepared and Dean would get that chance…

When the alarm woke them up Dean felt as though he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, and he groaned his complaints to Samuel as the angel practically dragged him out of bed to the shower. It was nothing short of cruel and unusual punishment to wake up this early, though Samuel, damn him, thoroughly cut his complaints short once they were in the shower together.

He was definitely going to be walking funny today if he wasn’t careful, and he almost smiled as he thought maybe he shouldn’t bother to hide it. Let Gabriel see, and wonder why. The thought of the look on the other angel’s face kept him amused all the way through breakfast and getting ready to leave.

Sam had gone into their room for his armor and weapons, and Dean had done the same. Maybe not armor, but he decided the light Kevlar vest wouldn’t be a bad idea. Usually when he went out on a hunt he was much more subtle, but considering he was going with a bunch of battle angels in skimpy robes and leather armor, subtlety was the least of their worries. So he strapped on the vest and pulled on his t-shirt over it. Strapped on his gun harness and checked each weapon before sliding it into the holster. A couple of handguns with silver and consecrated iron rounds. A silver knife on his hip. Vials of holy water. Salt filled shells he and Bobby had made up for the sawed off shotgun Dean tucked into the special holster on his back. Iron knife stuck in his boot. Plenty of extra ammunition, anything he could possibly need. Most of it fairly well concealed when he pulled on his leather jacket.

Dean rejoined his lover in the living room when he was finished getting dressed, as always eyeing Samuel’s gleaming sword and rolling his eyes a bit when the angel gave him _that_ look, but he didn’t touch it. His playfulness melted away and he was all business when Samuel announced the other angels had arrived.

He stood by as Samuel let Michal into their apartment, accepting the hug the other angel gave him without hesitation. If there was one angel he respected almost as much as Samuel, it was Michael. Michael had been very supportive from the very beginning of his decision to become a hunter and he’d learned a lot from the other angel. He couldn’t help but beam at the angel’s praise and laugh along with the rest of them at Sam’s comment about Gabriel. Gabriel’s dislike of him had become something of an inside joke between the three of them.

His amusement melted away however when he followed Samuel down to the street to meet the other angels, of course Gabriel among them. Of course Dean had absolutely no objections to the hugs and kisses of greeting Samuel shared with the other angels, but seeing him in Gabriel’s arms always made his hackles rise. Samuel’s whispered words in his mind barely keeping him from showing his displeasure outwardly, and Dean sighed and merely looked away instead.

It wasn’t Samuel’s faithfulness that worried him, it was Gabriel. The way the other angel touched him, held him, as though he had every right. He didn’t, but there was no way for Sam to tell him “no” without suspicion. That’s what bothered him, and the fact that Gabriel liked to rub it in his face every chance he got. He knew the other angel probably couldn’t wait for him to die. On a hunt, hit by a bus, whatever. Just so he would have Samuel all to “himself” again for the next few millennium.

Dean sighed and turned his attention to Michael, listening intently to the plan and nodding in understanding along with the rest of them. Stepping close to Samuel when it became obvious the angels were ready to take to the sky.

* * *

Gabriel pointed to Dean, “you go with Michael.” He turned and spoke with a few other angels, giving them instructions, and not expecting to be disobeyed.

Samuel took one look at Dean’s face and put his hand out. “You’re coming with me.” _On my back._ “I don’t think anyone else can handle him, Gabe. You know he’s a handful,” he gave an easy laugh.

Michael looked between the two angels and Dean and took to the skies alone, taking himself out of the equation.

There was no more argument, though Gabriel’s features were set in a forbidding expression. One by one, all of the angels hurtled through the still dark skies.

*

It was mid afternoon in Egypt. The sun beat down on the glittering sands and the air was so dry, it practically drained all the moisture off Sam’s skin. Sam was glad they’d arrived and were splitting up. Feeling caught between his lover and the dour Gabriel, and having to hide his feelings was not a fun place to be, especially for Sam who was ordinarily very open.

“Let’s switch positions,” he said, helping Dean off his back and sliding him around so they were face to face, with Dean’s legs still around him. “And ‘no,’ I’m not taking advantage of you. This way we can see in two directions,” he said, knowing how Dean thought.

He veered a bit faster to their assigned location and then slowed down as his eyes swept over miles of crystalline reflection. “There’s a slight tang of taint in the air, but it might be old. I don’t see anything yet,” he said, his fingers digging into Dean’s back for a second. “Caine will be high on lie... extinguishing an angel is a big deal.”

* * *

Gabriel’s order, a blatant attempt to do nothing more than piss him off and keep him away from Samuel for no other reason than he was being an asshole, made Dean’s back stiffen and his hands ball into fists at his side. Self righteous prick. Fine, Gabriel might hate his guts, they all knew it, but right now there were a hell of a lot other important things to worry about. Normally Dean took the angel’s scorn in stride, letting it roll off his back for the most part, but this was different. That was in private, not in front of others, when they were about to go into a _fight_ half way around the world for fucks sake.

The young man was half a second away from asking the other angel who the hell he thought he was that he could order him around like some kind of dog, when Samuel spoke up. Michael, thankfully, further diffusing the situation when he didn’t wait for Dean and took to the air by himself. That didn’t stop Dean from glaring hot daggers at Gabriel even as he moved to Samuel and put his arms around the angel’s shoulders.

*

Dean still hadn’t gotten used to flying, he probably never would, and with the added tension of not really knowing what they were going to face once they got to Egypt kept him on edge. He kept his face for the most part pressed against the back of the angel’s neck, partly to shield his face from the biting wind as they flew and partly just to piss Gabriel off. Though unfortunately he couldn’t enjoy it as much as he wanted to despite how good it felt to be pressed this close to Samuel.

He was more than glad when they finally reached their destination and split apart from the other angels, though Dean didn’t relax in the least. Not even at the awe inspiring sight of the desert stretching out for miles below them. He could feel it almost immediately, practically smell it, that taint of darkness, evil, like a poison in the back of his throat.

When Samuel suggested they shift positions, Dean did so, even managing to crack a small smirk at the angel’s comment as he wrapped his arms once more tightly around Samuel’s shoulders before he was all business again. Keeping an eye out for that darkness he’d seen the first time he’d watched Samuel go into battle.

“I can feel it.” Dean said when Samuel mentioned it, nodding slightly even as he frowned. No, it wasn’t old. It was still here. Just shielding itself more carefully now since the first time, when it had failed to take the angels by surprise, thanks to Dean. Unfortunately for the angel who Sam had said was swallowed up by it…

Dean turned his head, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun. Feeling a chill sweeping over him and he shivered despite how hot the air around them really was. Yes, it was most definitely still here. Or maybe not it, maybe who, the one Samuel had been talking about, Cain. Then Dean stiffened as he saw it in the distance, that same dark taint of evil he’d seen before, rising up from the ground, oozing out of it was more like it, stretching outward bleeding like an open wound, and he pointed.

“There! Over there.”

* * *

Grip tightening protectively around Dean, Sam looked in the direction he pointed. There was nothing there. Spreading his wings, he flew in the direction, knowing Dean would stop him before he ever reached its edges.

His eyes strained to get a glimpse, but his sense of smell was the only one confirming the existence of taint. _Where? How big an area?_ he asked, flying faster.

It wasn’t until he was close enough that Dean was about to stop him... he could tell by how his lover’s fingers dug into his shoulders... that he saw anything. But when it became clear, it sickened him The earth was wounded and bleeding out the guts of hell. “Holy... I’ve never seen a hell pit this large.”

He mentally called the other angels, carefully giving them the location and diameter of the hell pit so they wouldn’t make the error of flying over it until they knew what had dragged their fellow angel inside.

Some of them arrived even before he and Dean touched down, and they were demanding how Dean could have seen what they couldn’t. Sam was about to tell them to back off, when he saw that Dean was doing a good enough job of it himself. He gave a mental shake of his head. Most humans would have been cowed by one angel and here he was standing tall in the face of some of the most prominent and oldest ones.

* * *

The closer they got to the darkness seeping out of the ground the colder Dean felt and he held onto Samuel tighter without meaning to. It was sickening, twisted, worse than anything he’d ever felt before, even when he’d been attacked by a demon. The last thing Dean wanted to do was get anywhere near it, but this was what they’d come for, and he knew that Samuel was counting on him. To stay focused, because for the moment he could see it and the angels couldn’t.

_We’re close. Slow down._ He sent back to Samuel, he knew instantly when Sam could see it as well. A hell pit… was that like what Samuel and the other angels had gone to destroy the first time he’d watched Sam go into battle? That had been horrific enough, but this was worse, if it was possible.

Dean didn’t see any sign of the “net” that he had seen the first time that had almost trapped the angels but he kept his eyes open just in case. The last thing they needed was that damn thing springing up on them unannounced.

The young man wasn’t surprised when the other angels appeared only moments after they’d landed, knowing Samuel shared a link with all of them almost like the one he and Sam shared. However when some arrived and began giving him the third degree, and not even Gabriel this time. Just because he’d seen it first when they couldn’t, almost as though they were _accusing_ him of something, Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“How about we worry about something important, like getting rid of it first.” He suggested, lifting his chin defiantly. 

* * *

“Enough,” Gabriel said, landing close by, scowling slightly not only because of the bickering but because he didn’t like the fact that this irritating young man’s strange power was sure to make him invaluable and less disposable. That meant it was more likely that there would be divine intervention in those moments that the relatively new hunter might otherwise be at the end of his life.

“Someone will be meeting with you later to discuss how you saw,” Gabriel told Dean, his eyes lingering on Samuel for a moment, daring the angel to contradict him. This was proper protocol, and necessary to the battle against evil.

Sam merely looked back, determined to be at the interviews if possible and if Dean wanted him to be. They did need to try to figure out how Dean was seeing the taint first, and how the rest of them might be able to do the same.

Several angels spoke, giving their opinion on how the hell pit should be closed. Things were bubbling to the surface, they’d be crawling out soon... all of them knew it and were prepared.

“I don’t sense Cain’s presence.” One of them said, and others agreed and started to prepare a closing ritual.

“What about Raziel?” Sam asked.

No one answered.

Samuel looked at Michael first, then Gabriel. Before there were any protests from the other angels, Sam took two steps, grabbed Dean and tossed him into Gabriel’s waiting arms. No explanation, no chance for him to argue, he’d made his decision.

Running, he and Michael dove headfirst into hell, swords drawn, and a battle cry torn from their throats. 

* * *

Dean returned Gabriel’s scowl, but bit his tongue to keep from replying. Not even needing the warning glance he was certain Samuel was probably aiming at the back of his head to make him “behave”. Now was definitely _not_ the time to get into it, with Gabriel or any of the other angels despite the way they were looking at him… like he was some kind of freak, or worse, dangerous.

He’d gotten that enough throughout his life, ever since he was a child. One would suspect that _angels_ would be a little fucking more understanding and not treat him the same as those people at the asylum, hell the way his own parents, had treated him. The only one who hadn’t treated him that way was Samuel.

Well, there was Bobby too, but then even Bobby didn’t know about his visions. He’d trusted the older hunter with just about everything else about him, well except his relationship with Samuel of course, but not that. He wondered briefly if even Bobby would turn away from him in disgust if he knew some of the things Dean saw. Maybe he really was a freak.

Dean pushed those thoughts away, considering they wouldn’t help anything in their current situation. Listening as the other angels talked about how to close the pit before anything began to crawl out of it. Looks like they’d gotten here in the nick of time… When Samuel suddenly mentioned Raziel, Dean turned to him in question before he realized it must have been the angel who’d disappeared. Could anything be done?

Before he could even ask, a look crossed his lover’s face, a determination, that suddenly made Dean feel colder than the evil vibes coming from the hell pit.

“Samuel, no! SAMUEL!” He cried but his lover was already gone, before the words even left his lips. What he’d felt coming from the hell pit itself nothing compared to the sudden flare of agony that burst across their bond and he screamed in pain even as he fought against the iron grip that held him firm, keeping him from blindly diving in after Samuel, straight into hell.

As though their actions had somehow roused an angry sleeping beast the ground beneath their feet began to rumble and shake like an earthquake. The ground near the hell pit splitting back, opening wider, and Dean realized the growling wasn’t from the earth, or even one beast, but many, the first wave of them spilling out of the pit like puss bubbling up from an infected wound. 

* * *

For an instant that felt like an eternity, Samuel felt not only his own pain but Dean’s, like a reflection of a reflection. Then he was in the depths of hell and even their strong bond was broken,

His gaze turned to Michael as they fell for miles, their skin blistering and peeling, burning off, bleeding and repairing itself only to be torn off again. He was gritting his teeth to prevent from shouting, and concentrating on beating down thoughts of his pain, compartmentalizing it so that he could do his job... get Raziel back.

Both Angel’s felt Raziel’s life pulse, faint as it was and noted the droves of creatures between themselves an the injured angel. “Godspeed,” Sam said, separating from Michael and veering into position to fight his way through unimaginable horrors.

* * *

Gabriel held onto Dean though he didn’t hide his distaste, and pushed him away the instant the ground’s trembling became less violent. “Keep out of the way.”

Then he turned his back to the human and got the angels organized, started some of them chanting a closing ritual while the rest battled the evil oozing out of the pit. “The line is drawn here. None of them get past us,” he shouted.

In the back of his mind, he thought if Dean Winchester happened to be stubborn enough to try to fight these things and in the process lost his life, then things couldn’t turn out any better.

Swords were used to hack at the vile creatures, shields to guard against their gnashing teeth and razor sharp claws, rituals to stun, to maim, to push, and hand to hand battle as necessary. The sands of Egypt were soon stained with the red and black of angel and demon blood, as the battle as old as time waged on.

* * *

Dean didn’t stop struggling against Gabriel, didn’t stop trying to fight his way to the edge of the pit even as the demons began to emerge from it, he’d fight his way through them if he had to get to Samuel. His panic only rising another notch when he felt the bond between himself and the angel abruptly sever leaving him gasping and reeling as though he’d been struck upside the head by a two by four. _No… No! Samuel!_

Suddenly Dean found himself literally eating sand as the angel who’d been holding onto him carelessly tossed him to the ground. The young hunter pushed himself up, glaring hate at the angel’s back and the order for him to keep out of the way. As though he were nothing more than a nuisance. If it wasn’t for him, they never would have even found the hell gate in time. The demons would have already been out of it, spreading across the land like a plague.

Dean watched on in horror not because of what was coming out of the pit but what some of the angels were doing, the words they were speaking. Bobby had schooled him in enough Latin that he’d gotten the gist of it, they were getting ready to close the hell gate… with Samuel still inside! Was Gabriel out of his fucking mind?!

“No! You can’t!” But they all ignored him, too busy on fighting the demonic horde crawling out of the pit.

Dean pushed himself up off the ground with a growl, pulled out his guns and popped in a clip of blessed silver bullets. He didn’t hesitate blowing a hole into every demonic thing in front of him, fighting his way past the angels, trying to get as close to the hell gate as he could. Trying desperately to reach Samuel, to warn him. Samuel had once reached him in hell after all. Pulled his soul back out…

_Samuel! They’re closing the gate! You have to get out now! Sam!_

A sharp pain had Dean crying out and staggering before he turned and blew a hole in the center of the demon’s head. He felt hot blood dripping down his thigh from the wound the demon’s claws had left, but he ignored it. He kept fighting. Kept trying to reach Samuel. He didn’t need the damned angels that would abandon Samuel like this to babysit him.

He was holding his own just fine until he was struck from behind with a bone jarring force, fiery pain ripping through his back from his right shoulder to his left flank, knocking him back to the ground. It hurt like a bitch but it wasn’t deep, if it had been he would have been paralyzed or worse. If not for the Kevlar vest he’d been wearing he probably would have been gutted in half where he stood. Dean managed to roll over onto his back, biting back the scream of pain the pressure put on his wounds as he lifted and aimed his gun he’d managed to hold onto, pumping several rounds into the demon’s chest but it still came at him, determined to finish the job.

* * *

The battle in hell brutal. The two angels had strength and speed as their advantages but they were tremendously outnumbered. One error, one stumble, one fall and the hordes would descend on them, enslave them in chains, and they would never make it out of hell.

Hot air and flames beat at them, whipped their faces, blistered the skin right off them, leaving them to bleed as they fought the darkest things in the darkest pits of hell, single-mindedly heading for their brother. Temptations were thrown at them... time slowed down ... illusions were thrown up to deceive them, to make them think their mission was over.

Minutes turned to hours and felt like months, days, and years.

*

Michael emerged first out of the closing crevice leading back to earth, holding the barely recognizable body of the angel Raziel in his arms. Even as his feet touched the ground and he went to lay Raziel down, he saw Dean was being attacked and Gabriel had turned his back on him. "Gabriel, help _him_!" he shouted, though his throat was dry and raw, and only a whisper came out.

A whisper that Samuel heard as he kicked the dogs of hell back to where they belonged. Eyes as dark as that of any of their enemies, he shot out of the closing wound in the earth, immediately feeling Dean's pain on top of his. It took him just a few seconds to see Gabriel was neglecting his ward.

From a distance, he aimed and sent his sword hurtling through the air at tremendous speeds. It halved the demon clawing at Dean, and continued, landing on the ground inches from Gabriel's foot, hilt sticking out of the ground.

When Gabriel turned, he saw a cold fury in Samuel's eyes as he'd never seen before. "Samuel..."

Sam pointed at him as long strides took him toward Dean on the ground. "I entrusted you with his life. His life, Gabriel. Your petty dislike is one thing, but murder? Where is your code of ethics now?"

The earth groaned as it was sealed shut. Some of the angel's surrounded Raziel, others started to walk to walk toward the drama that was unfolding. Samuel's insults, his outburst before the others was unusual. More than unusual. There were speculative glances all around.

"I had bigger things to deal with than one human. Don't you think your feelings are clouding your judgment," Gabriel retorted, but not immediately.

By then, Samuel already had Dean's mental assurances, but was rolling him on his side to look at the damage. "A human, the only one who can see this type of taint early, and you would let him die. Whose judgment is clouded, Gabriel," he turned and shouted out the challenge. He might as well have called Gabriel a jealous bitch, it was clear to any who knew or sensed Gabriel's feelings for Sam.

Ignoring Samuel, Gabriel joined the cluster of angels surrounding Raziel. There wasn't much left of the angel. Nothing could be done. Several of the angels touched him, to ease his pain, and others sang a haunting song of lament. A golden light emerged from the dead and broken body and started it its ascent.

"Don't look," Samuel told Dean, "your eyes will burn." Taking the precaution of standing in front of him, he lay his own healing hands over his lover, taking as much of his pain as he could. _I'm sorry. I should not have brought you. I shouldn't have trusted him._ His eyes drank in the sight of Dean's face, his eyes... he could have lost him, and that was unacceptable.

* * *

The sudden burst of pain that wasn’t his own distracted Dean long enough to let the demon’s claws rake him once more over his shoulder making him grit his teeth to silence the cry of pain that tried to rip free. But the pain was nothing compared to the pure elation he felt feeling Samuel once again over their bond, those horrible moments of cold silence worse than any physical pain, and knowing the angel was safe, that he’d made it out of the pit before his “friends” closed the fucking door on him.

Of course that elation was going to be short lived if he couldn’t get away from the fucking demon determined to rip his head off his shoulders.

A second later, as Dean was scrambling back away from the creature and trying to get a clear shot, he found himself suddenly sprayed by black blood when the demon was literally sliced in two and fell away from him, very dead. Relief more than blood loss made him feel weak as he slumped back on the ground, gasping for breath even as he tried to turn his head to see his lover, see Samuel.

Perhaps the fury he saw on Samuel’s face, heard in his voice, should have surprised him, maybe even scared him a little. There wasn’t many things more frightening then seeing a pissed off avenging angel, even if that anger _wasn’t_ directed at him. But the only emotions that welled up inside of him were worry and love. Worry because of the wounds he could still see, and feel, over their bond and love… Dean didn’t give a flying fuck who saw it.

Maybe he felt the slightest bit of satisfaction seeing Gabriel being ripped a new asshole, even though he also felt the slightest bit of annoyance at the implication he needed to be babysat by the other angel. He wasn’t a damn helpless kid, and he’d been doing well… until the last few minutes at least. Dean glanced around and noticed now that the hell gate had been closed and there was no way for their numbers to be replenished the last of the demons had easily been taken care of by the other angels.

_I’m fine. Just a scratch._ Dean tried to reassure his lover, though the hiss of pain that escaped through his teeth when Samuel helped him roll onto his side probably didn’t help convince him. All of his wounds, even the one on his thigh where he knew the demon’s claws had cut deeper than a mere scratch seemed inconsequential when Dean caught a glimpse of the fallen angel through the others gathered around him. And even though he didn’t even know more than the angel’s name Dean felt tears begin to burn his eyes. He was dying… after all that… the angel was dying. Dean could see that clearly even from where he was.

Dean didn’t really want to look away but Samuel didn’t give him much of a choice, blocking his vision with his body. The young man was suddenly reaching out for Sam, lifting himself up and wrapping his arms around the angel’s neck, burying his tears into his lover’s shoulder. All the fear and desperation he’d felt when their bond had been silenced rushing back to the surface and he couldn’t have stopped himself from shaking even as he tried.

“Don’t ever fucking do anything like that again.” Dean whispered hoarsely. A slight tremor in his voice and he knew the image of that dying angel, would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Especially imagining recognizing Samuel’s face underneath the horrible burns and scars. “Is he going to be ok? He’ll go to heaven right?”

Dean shivered again as he lifted his head from the angel’s shoulder. He would have thought that after the hell gate was closed and all the demons gone he would have felt warmer again in the desert sun but his blood still felt like ice. Dean was looking up into his lover’s beautiful face questioningly when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head, but all he could see was a dark spot on the horizon, heat waves distorting it further, but he could have sworn it was the shape of a man. He also could have sworn the man was looking _right_ at him and the cold tremor that crawled up his spine was almost violent. But when Dean blinked it was gone and he finally felt warmth beginning to seep into his skin and bones again. 

* * *

The instant Dean reached for him, Sam took him into his arms, crooning quietly as Dean cried. He didn’t care if they were making a spectacle of themselves, or if he was holding Dean too tight and not casually enough, or if Dean was being too familiar with him at the moment. Right now, Dean was Sam’s sole focus.

“Shshsh, it’s alright. Raziel’s spirit is with God,” Samuel nodded, unable to hide the ache in his own heart about the loss of his brother who would never appear to them in his angel form again. “He’s out of that place... he’s at peace now.” He stroked Dean’s hair, silently calling to another angel for aid in healing him, when he felt Dean stiffen.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Sam saw nothing... not even Gabriel, who he’d partly expected was the cause of Dean’s distress. “What’s the matter. Are you in pain?” Yes, he could feel Dean’s pain, but there was something more, something else. “Dean?”

Before Dean could answer, another angel was with them. At Samuel’s nod, the angel placed one hand on Dean’s forehead and looked up to the skies, chanting in Latin. The angel’s palm grew warm and gave off a faint glow. Slowly, the angel moved his palm over the length of Dean’s body, healing deep cuts and superficial ones, taking away pain and even old scars in the process. “He’s lost a lot of blood and his body is in shock. He should rest for three days.”

_Do you hear that? Rest._ Samuel barely restrained a groan at the thought of having to enforce bed rest. “Thank you, he’ll rest.”

Without taking his leave of Gabriel, as he would ordinarily do, Samuel took to the skies. “I thought I would get used to seeing you in danger and hurt. I was wrong.” As soon as it was safe, Sam dipped his head down and gave Dean a long, lingering kiss. 

* * *

Dean was comforted a little bit by Samuel’s reassurances regarding the dead angel, though only a little, because he didn’t know what his spirit being with God really meant. It was a little vague. If there wasn’t anything to be sad about, then why were all the other angels grieving? Dean chose not to ask those questions. Not sure if he really wanted to know the answers, and even if he did, he probably wouldn’t be able to fully understand them anyway. How could he? He was only mortal.

Whatever it meant it had to be better than being trapped in hell. At least Dean hoped…

When Sam asked him what was the matter, he was about to answer but decided to keep silent when the other angel approached them and knelt beside him. Not really feeling up to getting the third degree again from the other angels about what he could see and they couldn’t. He’d gotten more than enough of that the first time. Fuck, why did they want him there in the first place if they were just going to get pissed off by what he saw?

As he felt warmth travel through his body from the other angel’s hand, Dean couldn’t help but relax in Samuel’s arms with a small sigh. His pain easing considerably and a bone deep exhaustion following.

_I’m fine._ The young man thought back, though the fact that he could barely keep his eyes open now that the adrenaline had worn off and he was no longer in pain anymore probably didn’t help his case. He let his head drop against Samuel’s shoulder and closed his eyes when they took off. Glad that they weren’t sticking around, he was more than ready to go back home.

_Do you think I ever get used to seeing you in danger?_ Dean answered back, and slit his eyes open when Samuel spoke. The young man smiled a little in spite of himself when Sam’s lips covered his own, moaning softly into the angel’s mouth. He could definitely get used to flying like this.

When their lips finally parted, Dean put his head back on Sam’s shoulder and finally answered Sam’s previous question.

“I think I saw Cain. He was looking at me.”

* * *

  
_It's not the same, you're mortal... break easier,_ Samuel bristled at the comparison of a human in danger with that of an angel. But once Dean responded to his kiss and clung to him, any thoughts of continuing the conversation were moot.

He cradled Dean's head on his shoulder, flying as fast as he could to get them home, when his ward dropped another bomb. Samuel's heart stuttered. He gripped Dean tighter, as if to protect him from the evil of Cain. "He didn't say anything? He just looked. Directly at you?" Sam asked, knowing the answers before Dean even gave them.

How had he not sensed Cain himself? This means of cloaking taint... Cain was able to use it on himself? It was worse than any of them had thought before, and if Cain realized Dean could see him...

Sam took a deep breath. "Did you look back at him like you could see him? Dean?" _Do you think he knows you could see him?_ He did his best to control his agitation at the thought, but worry and fear for his lover ate at him. Killing Cain had been important before, to save thousands of lives, to prevent other seals from being broken. But now, he had a deeply personal stake in it too, and wouldn't rest until he found Cain.

* * *

Dean snorted softly at the angel’s “break easier” comment. Fine, cement didn’t break as easily as glass, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t still break. Seeing what had happened to that poor angel was proof enough of that. Samuel was not as invulnerable as he would like Dean to believe. That scared him, a lot.

Dean wasn’t all that surprised by the angel’s reaction when he mentioned Cain. He could feel Samuel’s fear as strongly as he felt his lover’s arms around him. Dean didn’t know much about this bastard who had almost killed Samuel once already, but he wasn’t dumb enough not to be worried about this. Especially if Sam, not to mention the other angels, were so afraid of him.

“No, he didn’t say anything.” Dean said, shaking his head. Feeling too tired to keep his eyes open all of a sudden he closed them and continued speaking through their link rather than aloud.

_He was far away, I could barely make him out. I saw a dark shape from the corner of my eye and turned my head, so yeah, I think he knows I saw him._ Dean said, not wanting to make Sam even more afraid for him but he couldn’t just lie to the angel, not about something this important.

_You think if he knows he’ll come after me, don’t you?_   


* * *

“Until and unless we find other ways to detect him, yes,” Sam answered, without softening his fears. Dean had a tendency to jump first and laugh in the face of danger, if he made the threat seem less dire than it was, who knew what Dean would do? “We’ll find him. I’ll find him,” he spoke the words with finality.

Sensing Dean was falling asleep, he stopped talking to him and communicated instead with Gabriel and the others, telling them Dean thought he’d seen him. Before he reached his apartment, arrangements had been made to have a sketch of Cain brought to his place in a few days for confirmation, and the angels would start looking into why Dean could see what they could not, and how they might be able to do the same. He’d been more than clear though, that this wouldn’t happen until Dean had found his strength and was back to normal.

Inside their apartment, he woke Dean up for a short period, helping him bathe and then he put him into their large bed, smiling when Dean’s eyes closed even before he brought the sheet and blanket up over him. “Rest.” That was all that his lover needed, Sam knew this, but he also knew lack of rest could harm him.

After watching him for a while, Samuel moved to the living room and worked on his lap top. He’d already told the other angels what he knew and all of their knowledge and information would be recorded. The computer research was to see what he could find out about any strange occurrences near where the portal to hell had opened... anything that could have been a clue before Raziel had been taken, and anything that might hint at Cain’s trail. The monster had a voracious appetite for sex and murder, and not necessarily in that order.

Once again, the thought of Cain even looking sideways at Dean sent cold fear to the angel’s heart. He’d have to do everything in his power to keep Dean protected and safe, everything.

* * *

As Dean had predicted his dreams when he’d finally passed out from exhaustion were not pleasant in the least. He dreamed of the hell beasts like he’d seen when he’d died, before Samuel had pulled him out of hell over a year ago. He dreamed of Samuel trapped in hell, like that other angel had been. Samuel, so strong, yet unable to defend himself against the evil horde that delighted in ripping the angel asunder. Torturing him in ways Dean couldn’t even imagine, and yet somehow he saw in his nightmare in graphic detail. Sam, torn and bloody, his wings broken and bleeding, burned, scarred, in pain beyond agony, dying…

The young man jerked awake with a start, Samuel’s name a gasp on his lips and tears drying on his face. For a moment unsure where he even was, but a second later recognition clicked and he fell back to the covers with a groan.

Fuck… it felt like forever since he’d woken that way, but it really had only been a year. He’d had plenty of nightmares before coming to live with Samuel, even in the beginning when he’d first come to live with the angel. But once he’d started sleeping with the angel every night it became rare that he’d wake with bad dreams.

He’d almost forgotten what it was like… and wasn’t all that pleased to be reminded.

Dean glanced around the bedroom, wondering where Samuel was. The angel’s absence along with the events of… last night? Was it last night or today? Maybe it was even tomorrow… Fuck he’d never imagined how confusing it would be flying around the world and back, he didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Whatever day it was, the events at the hell gate was surely the reason for his nightmares. He’d probably only slept as long as he had because he was so exhausted, had lost so much blood.

He was still exhausted, actually, but unwilling to return back to the very nightmares that had woken him, Dean pushed himself up slowly from the bed. His whole body aching, though there was hardly even a mark on him anymore. He was still stiff as hell though and moved like an old man as he walked out of their bedroom and down the hall, finding Samuel in the living room bent over his laptop.

“Hey.” Dean offered, stifling a yawn behind his hand and running his fingers through his hair. “What day is it? Didn’t you sleep at all?” 

* * *

Sam’s head bobbed up at the sound. He’d been concentrating so hard, he hadn’t heard Dean at all. “It’s been...” Sam looked at his watch, “about twelve hours. I took a catnap,” he nodded, closing the laptop and standing up, giving Dean a disapproving look. “You should have just called me and not gotten up. Three days of bed rest, and it hasn’t even been one.”

Though he tried to look strict, he was across the room and putting his arms around Dean before he even realized it. Dipping his head down, he kissed him gently and started walking him backwards toward the bedroom. “You must be hungry.” His mouth slid against Dean’s again, his tongue slipping inside for just a little taste. “I’ll make something, and bring it in for you.” Another long, slow kiss and he had Dean next to the bed.

“Eating in bed, just what you like,” he grinned and pulled the sheets back, straightening them in the process. “In you go, no arguments. I’m serious... no, I am,” he said raising his hand when Dean would have spoken. “Three days, Dean. Only exception is bathroom and shower ... other than that, your ‘ass’ stays on the bed.” 

* * *

Dean was surprised to hear that he’d been asleep for twelve whole hours, but he was even more surprised that he still felt a little tired after having slept so long. Though at Samuel’s look, and gentle scolding that he shouldn’t have gotten up the young man merely rolled his eyes. He felt fine, after all. Ok, tired, but otherwise fine. He didn’t need to stay in bed like some kind of invalid no matter what Sam might think.

Before he could say as much, however, Sam had crossed the room, put his arms around him and was kissing him, effectively distracting Dean. Damn him. Dean knew what he was doing, but it was very hard to muster up a protest when he was enjoying it.

Before Dean knew it he was back in the bedroom, and Samuel was ordering him into bed like a five year old with the chicken pox. He couldn’t be fucking serious. Dean opened his mouth, again about to protest, when Sam gave him the hand, for Christ sake, and confirmed he really was serious. Dean’s expression that had been hovering between amused and annoyed quickly shifted over to complete annoyance.

“I’m not sick, I’m not injured, and I’m not a kid, damn it. I feel fine, Sam. I know you’re looking for Cain. I want to help.”

* * *

Sam’s mouth tightened, thought he wasn’t at all surprised at the rebellion. “Yes you are injured. The pain’s gone, but your cells are still in repair mode and they’ll heal better if you rest.” Ignoring the look on Dean’s face, he picked up the remote and tossed it into Dean’s lap. “Here, watch some t.v. and I’ll get your lunch.”

He walked to the door and turned back. “You’ll get your chance to help with Cain, but not until you’re better. We need your help,” he told him. If they hadn’t needed it so bad, Sam would not allow Dean to go anywhere near Cain, and might even hide him away somehow. Right... even angel’s indulged in wishful daydreams.

Thinking the matter was closed, he headed to the kitchen and quickly prepared soup and half a sandwich. No, what was he thinking? He put both halves of the sandwich on the breakfast tray and got a coke. He’d just bet that the hunter would want a beer, but he’d give this a try first.

He walked back to the bedroom and set the breakfast tray down over Dean’s lap. “If you want anything else, just ah... call me mentally.” Smiling, he nodded at the food. “Enjoy your dinner.

* * *

Dean gave Samuel an extremely doubtful look when the angel told him that his “cells” were still in “repair” mode. What the hell, was he kidding? There wasn’t a friggen mark on him… but Sam didn’t give him much choice in the matter, pushing him down to sit on the bed and then tossing the remote for the television in his lap, unfazed by Dean’s unhappy scowl.

The only reason why Dean remained sitting on the bed and didn’t simply follow Sam out the door to continue their argument regarding his health, sure that Sam was just saying it to keep him from getting involved with the search for Cain, was because Sam assured him that he really _was_ needed. When he was “better”. Ok, fine. So maybe another nap and he’d feel a little less tired than he was and Sam would get off his back.

Dean huffed in annoyance but laid down, propping the pillows up behind him and pulling the covers up to his waist. Clicking on the television as he waited for Sam to produce the lunch he’d promised, since Dean was a little hungry anyway. It didn’t take long, though Dean frowned at the soup, at least the sandwich looked good. He frowned again however when instead of sitting down to keep him company, or eating with him, Sam simply walked back out the door.

The young man grumbled to himself about stubborn angels as he ate his lunch, flipping through channels but not really finding anything that interested him. So instead he let his mind wander, to how he might be able to help with the search for Cain. He wanted to help, but to be honest, he wasn’t all that sure what he could do. Yes, he could see the “taints” as Samuel called them, before any of the angels could, but he couldn’t just walk around the whole world and keep his eyes open, or something.

Dean thought back to Samuel’s confirmation that Cain might try to come for him if he knows that Dean can see him when no one else could. Maybe they could use _that_ to their advantage. Encourage it. Quite simply, use him as bait to lure Cain into a trap. Dean almost snorted soup out of his nose knowing exactly what Samuel would say to that plan. But the more Dean thought of it the more he was convinced it was a pretty good plan. If they could lure Cain to him, they could pick a time and place and be ready for him, for a change. It could work… he also knew Samuel would shoot the idea down completely…

So maybe he should bring up the idea to one of the other angels instead? Dean snorted again, knowing Gabriel would just love the opportunity to dangle him out on a hook. He probably wasn’t the best choice to suggest the plan to, since Dean wasn’t suicidal. He only really wanted to do this if there was a good chance he’d survive the encounter. Dean decided he’d talk it over with Michael. He still had the angel’s phone number, for “emergencies”, he’d be less likely to completely disregard the plan and still let him know if it was viable.

With that in mind Dean finished off his lunch and set the tray aside. Stifling a yawn behind his hand as he scooted down more comfortably in the bed. He’d call Michael after he took his nap. 

* * *

Samuel crept quietly into the room, smiling and relieved to find that Dean was actually obeying. Looking at his expression, so peaceful and innocent in sleep, Sam couldn’t help thinking Dean really did look like an angel, and he could give Raphael a run for his money. Amazing how very un-angelic Dean could be when a certain fire burned in his incredible green eyes. Bending down, he kissed his forehead lightly, smiling at the knowledge that if Dean were awake, he’d have something to say about the chaste kiss.

Clearing away the tray, he paced for a while in the living room, deep in thought. He knew others were researching this invisible taint issue, but suddenly he had a burning desire to find out if Dean was alone. What if there had been others like him through history. Certainly his ability to see what angels could not was not is only strange power. His ability to mentally connect with Dean was a miracle in and of itself. He might even have other latent powers, ones that would develop over time. It wasn’t just idle curiosity, but maybe they could learn something about how Dean or others like him worked. And maybe if he could find answers.... maybe Dean wouldn’t even have to get more involved in this Cain thing.

He secured the house, making sure that nothing dark could get past his wards, and left knowing he was only a mental call away.

Two hours later, he had a stack of books with him from the special room in the library at the nearby convent. Before going upstairs, he decided to secure their dessert and entered the restaurant downstairs.

Sarah immediately came up, starry eyed as ever. “Hi Sam, what can I get for you today? Chocolate moose, raspberries with cream, or we have a crème caramel that is to die for.” When he ordered two desserts, she sighed and told him to call five minutes before he was ready to pick them up.

As Sam strode out of the restaurant, Daryl walked up to her and gave her a poke. “Earth to Sarah.”

“He’s still with Dean,” she sighed again. “Not that I don’t love Dean to pieces but...”

“Yeah.” It was Daryl’s turn to sigh. “And they won’t do threesomes.”

“What?” Her eyes grew round as she turned to him. “How do—“

“Pfft, I asked,” he answered, scurrying away from her and laughing at her expression. _Straight people!_.


	13. Chapter 13

  
_He saw the man from the desert again. Only this time he could see him clearly. He was closer, and this time there was no heat distortion coming off the sands to distort his vision. Probably because it was night. That was probably why it was so cold too. Dean had heard somewhere it could get almost cold enough to freeze at night in the desert, even though during the day the air itself practically scorched skin._   


  
_  
Dean was standing at the top of one of the tall dunes in the middle of the desert. They were alone. Just the two of them. Dean's bare feet sank a little into the cold sand as he walked towards the man. He thought he should be afraid, but he wasn't._

_The man was so still, he didn't seem to be alive. Dean could feel the cold air blowing across his bare chest but not even a hair on the man's head fluttered. It's like he was untouched by everything. His eyes, they were the most striking blue eyes he'd ever seen, and they were laser focused on Dean. Intense. They made him shiver from that intensity. He could feel them on him like a caress over his skin._

_The man's long silver white hair shown in the moonlight like spun silver, falling over his shoulders nearly to his waist. His skin was almost deathly pale, and seemed to glow as well. Ethereal. He reminded Dean of a ghost. Like if he tried to reach out and touch him he would just vanish like mist. Yet when Dean finally stood in front of him Dean knew he was real. His skin practically vibrated from the intensity of standing so close to him._

_Dean stared at the man, something like awe in his expression. He felt frozen in place when the man lifted his hand, moving so slowly he barely seemed to move at all, until his fingers touched Dean's face. Dean shivered at the cold, the touch icy, and his flesh breaking out into goose bumps but he didn't pull away. In fact he leaned into the touch, something halfway between a moan and a whimper pulled from his throat as the man tugged him close. Flush with his body. More cold, so cold it practically burned._

_When the man's lips covered his own it poured down his throat, choking him, freezing him from the inside out. But still Dean didn't try to pull away. Accepting the cold. Accepting the kiss. Craving it in fact. Moaning again in bliss as he kissed the man back. Feeling something inside of him break and he didn't care._

***

Dean startled awake with a gasp. The dream shattering and falling through his mental fingers like shards of glass, cutting, and impossible to piece together. Dean shook his head, trying to clear the disorientation he felt away and rubbed his eyes. Shivering a little even though he didn't feel cold, and not understanding why.

When Dean finally dropped his hand and looked around the room he was a little surprised to find it dark, surprised to have obviously slept as long as he had. Ok, so maybe Samuel did have a small point that he'd needed rest. He did feel a lot better now. He felt a lot less tired than before, even though his muscles still felt a bit stiff as he pushed himself up and got out of the bed.

Not that he was going to be admitting either to Samuel, that he'd been right, or that he was still a bit sore. He didn't need the angel telling him, _"I told you so."_ Samuel was too smug for his own good half the time already.

Dean yawned and stretched his arms above his head to work out the kinks as he made his way out of the bedroom to the bathroom, taking a good long piss before his bladder burst. When he was done he headed towards the living room, not surprised that the light was still on in there, though he was surprised that along with Samuel's laptop now there were stacks of ancient looking books covering the coffee table and the sofa. Some of them still covered in a layer of dust.

Samuel wasn't in the living room at the moment, though Dean didn't have to go looking for the angel because he heard Samuel moving around in the kitchen.

"What's all this?" Dean called as he pushed a couple of the books out of his way on the couch and flopped down.

* * *

Samuel had been chopping onions when he mentally checked on Dean and was swept into his ward’s dream. The instant he felt Cain’s presence, with unseeing eyes, he stabbed the knife into the wooden chopping board, so hard, it stood on end. The urge to go inside and shake Dean awake grew by the moment and it took everything he had to clamp down on it and see what the dream was about, and whether Dean could fight Cain or would fall under his spell as most mortals would.

Cain’s outer beauty as seen by Dean had Sam gripping the counter, especially when Dean walked toward the monster, one step at a time across the desert. No, he wanted to shout into Dean’s mind, he wanted to come up behind him and pull him away, but there was a chance Cain would say something... something they needed to know to either keep Dean safe, or trap the monster.

As Dean neared Cain, Sam felt Dean’s surge of need as he leaned in and accepted the kiss of Cain. As pleasure and pain coursed through Dean, Samuel screwed his eyes shut, leaning forward on his forearms, and balling his fists against the counter. Control... he struggled for it like he had not had to in a long time, biting his lip and trying to quell his rising anger and other feelings he did not want to name, although his underlying fear for Dean was normal.

As soon as the dream stopped, Sam pulled back and took a few deep breaths. A stream of Dean-worthy curses escaped his lips, and when he looked down, he saw he’d destroyed the knife he had been using to chop the onions. Still fighting for control over his emotions, he didn’t go to Dean, even when he knew his lover was awake.

A short while later, just as he put the casserole into the oven, he heard Dean moving around in the living room. When he put the question to him, Sam walked to the door and stood in its frame, arms crossed. “Research. You’re supposed to be in bed.” He wondered if Dean would tell him what he’d dreamt, but the part of himself that he was trying not to acknowledge... that part of him said that Dean would try to keep it from him.

* * *

“What kind of research?” Dean asked, completely ignoring the angel’s latter comment that he should be in bed. He turned his head to look back at Samuel standing in the doorway of the kitchen, arching an eyebrow slightly at the angel’s posture and expression. Sam looked like he had a two by four shoved up his ass… he looked like Gabriel.

The young man almost snorted at that thought as he pushed himself up off the couch and approached his lover. Completely ignoring Samuel’s anything but come hither stance as he wrapped his arms around the angel’s waist. Leaning up a little to plant a kiss on Sam’s unsmiling lips.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

* * *

Samuel managed to be non-responsive to the kiss but Dean’s flippant question sent the blood pounding to his temples. His fingers immediately curled around Dean’s biceps in a vice like grip, and without warning, he turned and had Dean pressed up against the wall.

His eyes were dark, a cool wind kicking up around them as he dipped his head and brought their lips together in a hard, brutal kiss, taking back what was his. Pushing his tongue inside Dean’s mouth, he wanted to replace the cold, he wanted to reach clear down inside him... to brand him as his, and remove all memories of Cain’s presence. His rage burned out of control until the mental thought that told the truth about his feelings slipped out. _Not his. Mine._

Pulling back just as suddenly, seeing Dean’s swollen lips, Sam released him and hung his head, blinking the darkness out of his eyes. “I’m sorry... I...” Getting a hold of himself, he forced himself to look at Dean. “Did I hurt you... you need to be in bed.” His nostrils were still flaring, but there was no other sign of his earlier anger.

* * *

Dean gasped in surprise when Sam’s hands suddenly came up on his arms, gripping him hard enough to leave bruises on his skin and making him wince. However that was nothing when the angel turned him around and shoved him hard up against the wall, Samuel’s eyes as black as coal and Dean felt the change in the air surrounding him. He felt the cold _cold_ , saw the rage in his lover’s eyes, and for the first time he might have been really afraid of Samuel. When normally Sam’s lips covering his own made him burn with desire and cling to the angel, right now Dean’s first instinct was to get away.

The kiss wasn’t even really a kiss. It was hard, almost brutal, bruising, Sam’s tongue practically forcing its way into his mouth, not asking permission but demanding it, claiming him, and Dean grunted in discomfort when he felt Sam’s teeth catch his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. In the middle of his confusion and not a little fear, though at this point for himself or for Sam he wasn’t sure, he heard his lover’s mental growl.

Not his? What the fuck?

Thankfully before Dean could really start freaking out Sam released his mouth if not his arms, letting the young man draw in a much needed breath. He stared at the angel with wide eyes. Watching the darkness fade from them did nothing to alleviate his confusion. Neither did Sam’s apology, really.

Dean automatically shook his head, though he still felt a bit numb with shock, when Sam asked him if he’d hurt him. Even as he denied it, the simple truth was that Sam had. His lips were swollen and ached, his arms still held in Sam’s tight grip didn’t feel too good either. Though on one hand he didn’t feel any more sore than after a really long all night bout of lovemaking with Sam, but this hadn’t been anything like that.

Once again Dean ignored Sam’s comment that he should be in bed.

Lifting his arms were a little difficult considering Sam still had a hold of them, but he managed to touch Sam’s face with both of his hands. Framing it gently between them he let his concern for Sam flow over their bond even as it mingled with just as much as confusion of what had just brought that on.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” 

* * *

As Dean’s confusion, pain and concern... concern for _Sam_ filtered across their bond, Samuel’s shame doubled. What had he done? How could he have treated the one he loved the way he had? He knew Dean’s history only too well and it practically killed him that he’d practically abused him the way so many other had.

Slowly decreasing the pressure on Dean’s arms, he turned his face slightly into one of Dean’s palms, kissing it softly. “Sorry... so sorry,” he whispered again, his feelings flooding their connection.

An angel should never act in anger. An angel should never hurt a human without cause. An angel should not fall prey to feelings of jealousy. And yet he’d done all that. Broken all the rules. Yes, he wasn’t infallible, but falling in love, holding one human dear over all others... it was forbidden, it was the beginning of a slippery slope which he was only now beginning to understand.

And yet, he wouldn’t give it up. Not for anything. Maybe not even to save his own soul.

Dean was waiting for an answer, and Sam knew his answer was not a good one. There was no good answer, no excuse. Eyes locked with Dean’s, he replayed the images he’d seen in his mind, of Dean kissing Cain. “I... I couldn’t take it. I know it wasn’t you, I know what he did... I know he made himself beautiful and irresistible, but even knowing all that, when I felt you want him...” his voice was anguished. “Forgive me. Please... never, it will never happen again,” he vowed, leaning his forehead down against Dean’s.

* * *

Dean felt the angel’s shame over what Sam had done and it tore at his heart. He gently caressed Sam’s cheek, trying to offer his lover a reassuring smile. If nothing else, reassuring the angel that he was fine, even though it didn’t feel, and probably didn’t look, very genuine. The repeated apology again not really easing his mind. Not that he was afraid of Samuel, not really, even though in the last few minutes he’d come very close, but he was afraid. He was afraid of what had brought all of this on, made Sam act that way, and he relaxed only a little when the angel finally released his death grip on his arms.

When Samuel’s eyes finally met his, a small chill ran up Dean’s spine. Not liking what he saw there, and definitely not liking what Sam showed him a moment later. Dean gasped, his eyes growing wide as he saw himself and that… man… he’d seen before. Cain. The man kissing him, and himself responding…

No, that wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been, but it was. The images Sam showed him piecing together enough of the glass shards of the dream he’d woken from that he couldn’t possibly deny it. It made him feel ill, and dirty, and cold… Dean shivered, and when Samuel leaned in closer to him his arms came up around the angel’s shoulders, holding on to him tightly as though he were afraid something would rip him away from Sam if he didn’t.

“I didn’t… I would never want him. I don’t know why… I don’t want that, Sam, you have to believe me…” 

* * *

"Shshsh, you've done nothing wrong," Samuel whispered, closing his own arms around Dean, but almost too gently, like he was made of glass. "I know what you want," he was able to give a smug smile, kissing him lightly then pulling back to look at him.

"He used to be one of us. He fell, but he can still show the face he used to have, the one you saw... it is beautiful." Just as all angels were, particularly to humans. "He must have been very busy, seeking... searching you out. He sent you that dream, testing you... testing his powers over you."

Sam's jaw clenched as he fought off another bout of jealousy. "If it happens when you are awake, you have to shut him out immediately. He will try to see through your eyes, and he will try to lure you." Sam took a breath. "I'll teach you the words to cut off any such attack but if you don't employ them quickly..."

No, it wouldn't come to that, because they were going to find Cain before Cain got to Dean. He lifted Dean up in his arms, prepared to ignore any protests and carrying him to the sofa where he could rest. "The best... the safest thing would be to go to Gabriel." He knew Dean would hate the idea. "Just for a few days, until Cain is stopped. I'll be there with you." He put his hand on Dean's shoulder, warmth and reassurance emanating from him, hoping to calm his lover. "His place is a hub for angels, there will always be an army around you. Say 'yes.'"

* * *

Sam’s reassurances that it wasn’t his fault didn’t do much to ease Dean’s mind. Especially when he felt like he had failed. He’d been tested and failed. He couldn’t block Cain out of his mind. Let the… fallen angel… demon… whatever he was actually _kiss_ him. He’d enjoyed it… and then he hadn’t even remembered it until Sam had shown him. So, yeah, he’d screwed up pretty damn big.

He could still feel Samuel’s… jealousy… seeping over their bond and his feelings of guilt and failure only grew. He managed a slight nod when the angel explained to him that at least there was a way he could fight it, Sam only needed to teach him how.

Before he could say anything else however Sam was lifting him up into his arms in a friggen bridal carry and Dean immediately began protesting. Damn it, he didn’t need to go back to bed. He didn’t even _want_ to after what had happened. But Sam was only bringing him over to the couch… he could have walked by himself though. Dean gave Samuel a slightly dirty look when the angel set him down for carrying him around like some friggen damsel in distress.

Then Sam dropped his next bomb and Dean couldn’t stop from groaning aloud at that idea. Was Sam fucking serious?! Gabriel’s?! He would MUCH rather take his chances here than to have to endure that bastard’s company for a few DAYS. He almost asked Sam what made him think they could even catch Cain in a few days, since it had been nearly a year since Sam had first been attacked by Cain. He wasn’t fucking staying at Gabriel’s for the rest of his life!

But then Dean remembered his idea from before. If it really was a “hub” for angels, maybe it would be the best place… Maybe Michael would even be there and he could talk to the angel in person, see what he thought, and arrange to see if they could get Cain using him as bait. It would certainly be less risky if there were an army of angels around him at the time…

Dean heaved a heavy sigh.

“Fine… on one condition, you swear to make it up to me when we get home.”

* * *

Dean’s heartfelt groan only drew a quelling look from Sam. This wasn’t a game, this was life and death... Dean’s, and Samuel took that very seriously. He no more wanted to be under Gabriel’s roof with Dean than Dean did. Being torn between the two of them in short increments of time was bad enough, but days on end ( if they were lucky and got Cain that quickly)... that would be a nightmare.

His lover’s quick capitulation almost scared Sam, but he put it down to Dean’s having felt Cain’s power and being mature about the options that they had. His demand, on the other hand, was no surprise.

Smiling, Samuel shook his head. “You know I don’t swear, but I have a feeling that after a few days of sleeping apart, I’ll be more than happy to make it up to you over and over and...” He sent Dean a mental image of that was very unangelic, of himself bending Dean over the chair, then over the table... then having him in the bathtub, with water splashing all over the ground.

* * *

Dean ignored Samuel’s reproachful look, something he had a lot of practice at. Snorting softly when Sam said that he didn’t swear. Uh huh, he’d heard the angel swear plenty of times. Samuel had quite a colorful vocabulary when he wanted to. Sometimes Dean would still have to ask him what the hell something even meant. Which kind of ruined the impact when Samuel was trying to scold him for something.

He grinned however when Samuel agreed to make it up to him anyway. Dean licked his lips, his breathing growing a little heavier at the various images, promises, his lover sent him across their bond.

Dean scooted closer to the angel, cupping the back of Samuel’s neck and letting his fingers slide through the soft hair as he tugged his lover a little closer.

“You know, you could always start now.” Dean suggested in his best “melt-an-angel” voice. 

* * *

Samuel smiled at Dean's antics, which usually worked on him. But not when Dean's health was at risk, never then. "I could," he nodded, kissing him tenderly, but pulling away before Dean easily sucked him into a heated kissing session or more. "But you have got to rest. And what you're suggesting is the opposite of what you need."

Seeing a wicked light enter Dean's eyes, Samuel immediately got up as if scorched. "Behave. It's not nice to tempt an angel," he said pointing at his wicked lover. "I'll pack, you … sit tight."

Before Dean could offer any argument, he was out of the room. Efficient as ever, he had a small duffel bag packed for Dean, including clothes and some weapons. He didn't need anything for himself, but he tossed a change of clothes in with Dean's stuff. Everything else he might want or need would be available at Gabriel's.

"Ready?" Still not enamored by the way Dean was looking at him, he muttered, "remind me to douse you in holy water some time." Bending, he easily picked Dean up by his waist and carried him to the door. "Don't worry, no one will see. Promise." Smiling, he took him down and out into the street, before launching into the skies.

A very short time later, they landed on the roof of a large, round building, surrounded for miles by grass and wild flowers. The roof was arranged like a courtyard, with beautiful fountains, benches and flower pots. Seeing the question in Dean's eyes, Sam explained. "This place doesn't exist in the human realm. That way, it is easily and quickly accessible from everywhere."

He'd only just set Dean down when the doors flew open, and several angels, including Gabriel glided out to meet them. Each one greeted Sam with a hug, though some, including Gabriel gave him a light kiss. _Patience._ As a few curious angels stared at Dean, Sam raised his hand, "if I hear even one joke about Raphael, I… mean it." Whew, he'd just averted a near swearing.

There was much laughter, and he was quite sure comparisons were being made whether they were shared with him or not. "And is Raphael in?"

Gabriel shook his head. "He hasn't returned from his mission. I expect it to last a few more weeks. Welcome, you've been missed," he slapped Sam on his back. "You know I always have a special place for you."

Rubbing his neck and looking down, Sam cleared his throat. "We appreciate your hospitality. I hope interconnecting rooms won't be a problem."

Gabriel stiffened. He liked to keep Samuel close when he could, and had slept with him on a few occasions. Close companionship and comfort among angels was completely acceptable, and they hadn't been behind closed doors. Though he knew his feelings ran far beyond chaste, he would never act on them, he told himself. Fighting them put him on the side of right.

"Thank you," Samuel put one arm around Gabriel's, knowing the angel had not given his agreement but taking it for granted, and another around Dean, as he walked with them toward the entrance. "We need to plan. Cain made contact with Dean."

As they entered, Michael walked up and greeted them, letting out a breath of relief to see that Gabriel and Sam were no longer at odds. But when Gab told them in clipped tones where their quarters would be and to meet in the blue conference room, before walking away, he revised his opinion. "Get you settled, then meeting?" he asked as they walked through a wide corridor flanked by pillars. Gabriel's home looked much like an ancient Greek or Roman palace, complete with bathing pools and beautifully inscribed walls.

* * *

Dean stared at Samuel, his mouth agape, when the angel pulled away from him ordering him, _ordering_ , to “sit tight” while the angel went to _pack_. Was he fucking serious?! Apparently he was, because Sam simply left him sitting there staring after his lover as though Sam had lost his fucking marbles.

Ok, Samuel was taking this whole nurse maid thing a _little_ too fucking serious. He felt _fine_ for god’s sake! Well, except for the fact that he was _horny_ and his lover was giving him a serious case of blue balls, he felt fine.

Dean wasn’t above pouting, and he definitely was doing that and then some by the time Samuel returned. However Dean was quickly going from just annoyed at Sam’s behavior to really pissed off. He practically glared death at the angel for his “holy water” comment, not amused in the least. He just couldn’t fucking believe it. Samuel was taking him to _Gabriel’s_ where they wouldn’t be able to fuck, kiss, touch, or even really _look_ at each other for days, or even weeks, and Sam wasn’t even going to make out with him before they left?!

“I can walk, god damn it!” He snapped when Sam picked him up again but of course the angel ignored him completely. As they flew Dean made sure that Samuel knew just how pissed off he was, not hiding his displeasure in the least over their bond.

However the young man couldn’t hide his surprise when they arrived at their destination practically as soon as they took off. He knew Sam could fly really fucking fast when he wanted to, but Dean couldn’t imagine anywhere in the San Francisco area that looked like this…

Dean merely grunted at Sam’s explanation, still not ready to forgive his lover yet. _Oh sure, now you put me down._ He sent irritated over their bond when Sam finally set him down on his feet when the other angels came out of the building to greet them. Dean didn’t bother to ask how they had known they were coming. Not much surprised him about angels anymore.

Dean didn’t bother to watch Samuel’s “greetings”, especially with Gabriel, knowing it would just piss him off more, he was right, and the sour look on his face really didn’t dissipate as Sam spoke for both of them. He expected the other angels to ignore his presence entirely, and he wasn’t sure he appreciated the “joke” at this point in time. Apparently he’d become an inside joke among all the angels regarding his looks. He was already starting to doubt his decision to let Sam bring him here.

When Samuel put his arm around him, Dean pulled away. If the angel wasn’t going to touch him in their own home, he didn’t get to here. The only thing that seemed to be going right was that Michael was here, so at least Dean wouldn’t have to wait to talk to him and to suggest his plan. Better sooner than later in his opinion, the faster they could get out of this place the better as far as Dean was concerned. He supposed he’d talk to Michael later when Samuel was otherwise occupied. Dean had no doubts that Gabriel would see to that soon enough. 

* * *

When Dean practically knocked the arm he was putting around him out of the way, Sam gave a soft sigh. _Control your anger. Please. We can’t afford to make mistakes, here._

Resigned to the possibility that Dean might not restrain himself, and would give them away, Samuel made peace with the idea. He’d rather make sure Dean was safe, then to risk him just to protect his own guilty secret. Though he had wondered more often than was healthy, just why love should be outlawed for angels. Stupid rules...

Glad that Michael was there, as the three of them walked into the quarters assigned to himself and Dean, he said as much to the other angel. “I hope you’ll be spending a lot of time with us, Dean seems to have taken a liking to you and none of the others.”

Michael grinned. “That’s because I’m the charming one.”

“And you don’t look like someone is holding a peace of cheese under your nose each time Dean appears.” Course Samuel was thinking of Gabriel.

Laughing, Michael spread his wings out, then folded them away. “I’ll show him the sights.”

“Take him to the tranquility pools.” _Not that I’m expecting miracles for you. Please, please Dean, relax._

“I will.”

Samuel disappeared to his room and took a quick tour, then came back. “I’ll go get some of the boring background out of the way, you two come in an hour. Unless you want Gabriel’s company sooner,” he flashed Dean a smile, knowing his answer before it was given. 

* * *

Dean cast Samuel a withering glare when the angel had the nerve to tell _him_ to control his anger. After what Sam had pulled back at their apartment, and he wasn’t even thinking about how the angel wouldn’t even kiss or touch him, treating him like he was made of glass, except when he was slamming him up against the wall and bruising his lips with his mouth because he was jealous. Fucking hypocrite…

Besides, even if the other angels picked up on the fact that he was pissed off at Sam it wasn’t like they would know why. For all they knew he was pissed off because Sam had brought him here in the first place, to Gabriel’s, who everyone knew hated him and he certainly had no love for the angel in return. Which was true, in a way, so he wouldn’t even be lying if he was asked, which he doubted anyone even would. He was just a lowly human after all. Not worth the attention of any angel.

_Worry about yourself._ Dean snapped back at Samuel when the angel told him to “relax”. He barely resisted the urge to remind Samuel that he wouldn’t be pissed off right now if it wasn’t for him, so the angel better just fucking deal with it. Dean didn’t bother to take a look at “his” room like Samuel, not really caring what it looked like. He was certain it would be as gaudy and over the top as the rest of this place looked. He wasn’t surprised in the least that Gabriel’s home looked like this, the fucking stuck up prick wouldn’t live anywhere else except a fucking _palace_ far away from lowly _humans_.

Dean didn’t answer Sam’s comment about Gabriel’s “company”, he just turned and walked back out into the hallway, waiting for Michael to join him. At least this much was going right. So he could talk to Michael about his plan and maybe they could even present it to the other angels at this meeting, no waiting around which was just fine with Dean. The quicker they got down to business so he could get the fuck out of here the better. 

* * *

Samuel didn’t argue anymore because he could feel Dean’s high emotions and was afraid to escalate the situation here, where any outburst would be before so many eyes. He feared that in his anger, Dean would let something slip and that was not a mistake he could afford.  
*  
Michael lead the way out, shaking his head and smiling at Dean. “You’re really wasting your anger on Gabriel. Either he won’t notice, or if he does, it will provide him with a measure of satisfaction. After the meeting, you will likely be able to avoid him most of the time, his palace is so large no two people ever have to meet.”

Thinking that would please Sam’s temperamental ward, he looked over at his face and realized Dean would not be that easy. “This place was the best choice for your safety, whether you enjoy Gabriel’s company or not. Samuel was right to bring you,” he said.

They walked out of the building and through a large outdoor garden that was really a courtyard. The colorful flowers bloomed and the grass was plush and well groomed. Once they reached the other side, they walked past some pillars and entered into another outdoor area. “The pools of tranquility. They’re each a different temperature,” Michael told him. “You can enter any of them if you want. The water will help you relax and also accelerate your healing.

* * *

Not really knowing how to answer Michael’s comments regarding him “wasting” his anger on Gabriel or how this was the “safest” place for him Dean said nothing. Or perhaps he just didn’t trust himself to answer at the moment until he’d cooled down a little. He might just blurt out exactly why he was mad and it had nothing… well mostly nothing… to do with Gabriel at the moment. Not to mention how he hardly felt “safe” in the home of an angel who wanted him dead, if Gabriel’s actions in the desert were anything to go by.

At least by the time they reached the pools of “tranquility” Dean had shoved down most of his anger deep inside where it would turn into a bitter disappointment more than anything by the time he saw Samuel again. He shook his head at the angel’s offer to get inside one of the pools. Thanks, but no thanks, he liked to bathe in private unless it was with his lover.

“I’m healed enough.” He stated simply, turning to Michael. “I did want to talk to you about something though. I had an idea, how to maybe flush Cain out into the open so you guys can take him down. I didn’t want to bring it up to Samuel because he seems to think I’m made of glass.”

Dean sat down and made himself comfortable on a bench, expecting Michael to join him. Deciding he had really nothing to lose right now he launched right into his idea.

“Samuel mentioned that if Cain knew I could see him, see the things he’s trying to hide, that he might try to come after me. After the dream I had tonight… well, that seems like a pretty good possibility now and we might be able to use it to our advantage. I know he was the one who almost killed Samuel a year ago, and if he’s stayed off your guys radar this long there’s no telling how long he can keep doing it. But if he’s interested in me enough to come after me himself then we’ll know where he’ll be and we can set up some kind of trap. Use me as bait to lure him out and then you guys can smite him or whatever. What do you think?”

* * *

Michael adjusted his robes and sat down, extending his long legs and turning to look at Dean. He wished the boy would listen and take to the waters, because there was no hiding the fact that he was wound up. He liked Dean well enough, but it was a credit to Samuel that he could deal so well with the temperamental human twenty four seven. Michael knew he kept Sam hopping.

As Dean Told him about the dream, something that Michael was already aware of, Michael nodded in agreement with Samuel’s belief that Cain would come after Dean again. “He’s very difficult to find, always has been a wily one. And now with this cloaking ability,” he shook his head, extremely worried, not just for the safety of Dean and Samuel, but for the world.

When Dean mentioned being the bait, Michael nodded and shook his head at the same time. “You know, that is a plan worthy of Gabriel himself. I am sure it has run through his mind already, and that they are battling over it now.” He was quiet a moment, concentrating, then wincing. “Yes, that is _exactly_ what they’re doing right now.”

He locked gazes with Dean. “I agree with you and Gabriel on this. We don’t have many choices, and we need to catch him… if his cloaking abilities are proliferated, there will be a lot more at stake here than a few lives.” His bright blue eyes sharpened as he thought about what they ought to do. “Samuel is skilled enough to keep this matter in a state of argument for days on end, and that’s what he will do to block Gabriel’s attempts to plan. If we go in there with our own plan, it will be a _fait accomplie_ , there won’t be anything to argue about and everyone will see it is the right way to go about this. But Samuel might smite you,” he said with a grin. Then more seriously, he added, “you know there is history between Sam and Cain. Samuel was Cain’s replacement.”

* * *

Dean frowned a little, not quite sure how to take Michael’s words that his plan was “worthy of Gabriel himself”. What exactly did that mean? He knew the other angels had a much higher opinion of Gabriel than Dean did, but he still couldn’t see how that was a _good_ thing.

Sure, he already knew that the other angel would gladly hang him out like a worm on a hook without a second thought, and probably not even lift a finger to reel him in before it was too late, but that certainly wasn’t _his_ plan. That’s why he wanted to ask Michael’s opinion on it before he did anything. Dean certainly wasn’t interested in dying, or worse, the brief glimpse he’d gotten of hell was quite enough for him thanks very much.

Somehow he wasn’t all that surprised to hear Michael say that Gabriel _had_ in fact already thought of that plan… or that they were already arguing about it. It was just like the fucking bastard to think of using him as bait and not even _ask_ him first if he would be willing to be it. If Dean himself hadn’t already been considering it he would have taken great pleasure in telling Gabriel to go fuck himself. Too bad that for once they actually _agreed_ on something.

Dean nodded as he listened to the angel explain what they should do to get the ball rolling on the plan. Michael was right, they needed to do something about Cain sooner rather than later. This was their best option, no matter how much Samuel might not like it.

“I can handle Samuel.” Dean said with an offhanded shrug. Yeah, he had no doubt in his mind that the angel would be pissed off to high heaven, no pun intended, but he would just have to deal with it. Dean had made up his mind, he wasn’t a child that needed to be told what to do, and he was going to do this.

The young man raised an eyebrow slightly when Michael mentioned the “history” between Cain and Samuel.

“I didn’t know, no.” He said, shaking his head. Dean wondered what exactly that meant. Despite living with, and having sex with, Sam for a year he honestly knew very little about Samuel’s past, not to mention angels in general. He probably knew much more than the average person, sure, but he certainly was no expert. He guessed he just assumed that Samuel was always… well… Samuel. Which he supposed was kind of a dumb idea since Samuel was thousands of years old, was there really any way someone could be the same person after all that time? “What do you mean replacement? You guys have ranks or something?” 

* * *

“When someone from our ranks falls, a human is elevated. Usually, the human has some dealing, some connection with the angel that has either fallen, or died. There’s no rule, but it seems to happen that way. The assumption is that the replacement has some of the same qualities as the we’ve lost.” He ran his hand through his long hair. “In the case of an angel who has fallen, usually they hold a grudge against their replacements. Then there is the baggage from their pre-ascension relationship. As you might guess, it can get messy. I suppose it’s a blessing that not too many of us fall.”

He got up off the bench. “Come, let’s hold our own round table so we have something to present. Samuel is gaining ground with his arguments and Gabriel is getting incensed.” As they walked back through the garden, they spoke some more and Michael mentally call a meeting in one of the small conference rooms. By the time he and Dean arrived, the other four angels were already there.

After introducing Dean two of the angels that he didn’t yet know, he launched into an explanation. Dean then told his story and made it clear he was volunteering. After initially being a little aloof, the angels warmed up to Dean and planned openly, listening respectfully to his view point.

And hour later, the tight group marched into the large conference room and were announced.

Samuel had the floor... he’d had it for quite some time. When he turned and saw Dean surrounded, saw the resolve etched in each of their faces, a cold gust swept through the room.

_What have you done?_ Eyes locked to Dean’s, Samuel allowed him to feel the depths of his fury at the betrayal. _No, I forbid it. I absolutely forbid it, Dean._

 

Before they could get any further with their silent non-discussion, the room broke out into argument. He raised his hand, shouting, “under no circumstance will my ward be used as bait. It is unacceptable. Unacceptable!”

“Silence. The floor is mine, I said silence,” Gabriel raised his voice and stood up. “Samuel, you will calm down or—“

* * *

Dean was still feeling a little overwhelmed about everything that Michael revealed to him about Samuel, well, not in so many words most of it was implication, but the implications alone were astounding. That Samuel was once _human_ , as human as Dean. Dean had always kind of assumed Samuel had always been an angel, "born" an angel, however angels were born, he'd never asked. He also couldn't help but wonder if all angels were once human as well or only a select few. He wondered if it was because Samuel was once human that he was… different. Thought of humans differently than other angels did. Like Gabriel who seemed to despise them, well maybe he didn't despise all humans, just him, Dean had never asked.

The other implication that Michael made, that Samuel had probably known Cain hundreds of years ago when Cain was an angel and Samuel was human was another pretty big bomb. Dean couldn't help but wonder if Samuel had been like him to Cain. If Samuel had been Cain's ward… maybe even more?

As much as Dean wanted to ask Michael more questions about Samuel's past, he knew they had other things they had to deal with right now that were more important. Like trying to convince the other angels that his plan to lure Cain out of hiding by using himself as bait was the best option, enough to override the huge protest that Samuel was definitely going to make.

Dean nodded when Michael suggested they speak to some other angels first before heading into the meeting where Samuel was and followed him out of the garden. Dean made sure to be on his "best behavior" when Michael introduced him to the other angels. He could tell they didn't think much of him at first, but they were willing to listen, and after Dean explained his plan not only were they cooperative but Dean would go so far as to say _friendly_ to him. Maybe it was just Gabriel who was the asshole among angels after all.

The young man couldn't deny the knot in his stomach when they eventually headed off to the meeting room where Samuel and the majority of the angels were already gathered, planning… arguing was more like it. Dean could hear his lover's voice even on the other side of the thick wooden door before it was opened. He met Samuel's eyes when they were ushered inside and even without the noticeable drop in the room's temperature and Sam's words echoing through his head he could tell that his lover was _pissed_.

Dean clenched his jaw and lifted his chin in defiance and determination. He had to do this. He was going to do this. He could make his own decisions, god damn it. Samuel couldn't _forbid_ him to do shit.

The young man stepped forward and swallowing his pride he addressed Gabriel respectfully.

"Gabriel, can I say something?" Dean asked, though he barely waited for the angel to look in his direction much less give him the "OK" before he continued.

"I know the situation with Cain is getting worse. I know the cloaking he is using is keeping you from finding him. I saw him in Egypt and none of you did. He knows I saw him and tonight he came to me in a dream. He knows I can see what you can't. I know he's going to come after me at some point the only question is when and where."

Dean paused only briefly, not giving anyone a chance, not even Samuel, to interrupt him.

"So I can try to hide out here for the months or even years it might take for you to find him or we can use his 'interest' in me to our advantage. If we can encourage him to come after me himself, set up a situation he can't refuse, when he shows himself you can catch him and send him back to hell, or whatever you're going to do with him. I know its dangerous, but I am fully willing to take this risk if it means stopping Cain."

* * *

While Gabriel was not at all pleased with the arrogant manner in which Dean had taken the floor, as if his voice should have equal weight with the other angels’, the end effect suited his plans completely and completely overshadowed the clever arguments Samuel had been making to the contrary.

Nodding, Gabriel started to clap in approval. Others started to follow suit, clapping until the sound was a dull roar echoing in the room.

“No... stop that, stop this. This NOT decided,” he tried to shout over the din, his eyes darkening like coal. “We do NOT hide behind humans we are sworn to protect. That is NOT the right order of things. We...”

But his words were lost... drowned out by the majority’s decision. Every swear, every curse that had ever fallen from Dean’s lips reverberated in Sam’s mind. Turning on his heels, he strode right past Dean and out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him as if pushed by a strong wind.

Michael’s eyes were cast down. He knew Samuel would be angry with him. He was his closest friend and the thought that Samuel would shut him out hurt, but they all knew there were times when

Immediately, Gabriel called together a small council to hammer out the details and decide on the best strategy for laying the trap Dean had suggested. 

* * *

Even as prepared as Dean was for Samuel’s inevitable anger at what he had done did not make it any easier when the angel stormed out of the meeting room without even so much as looking at him. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But Dean walled off that hurt, keeping it to himself, and not letting it leak over their bond. He deserved it. He deserved Samuel’s anger, and Samuel deserved to be angry with him.

He could only hope that when the angel was done being angry with him that Samuel would be willing to forgive him. Maybe he would even be willing to see that this really was the best option they had right now. Cain had to be stopped. They had a real chance to stop him sooner rather than much later, and that could save a whole lot of peoples’ lives.

Dean wasn’t any happier really at being hung out like a worm on a hook than Sam was, he certainly didn’t want to die doing this, but they simply didn’t have very many options right now. With a sinking feeling in his gut he began to wonder if this was the reason why humans and angels were forbidden to fall in love. Because it was too difficult not to place the safety of the one you loved above everyone else. Not to be willing to… sacrifice… them if needed to save billions of others. He wondered if he wasn’t Sam’s lover, if he was just his “ward” and nothing more if Samuel would be more willing to sacrifice him.

Dean forced those thoughts away, he was sure he’d have plenty of time to deal with them later. Right now he was too busy paying attention to listening to the angels plan to carry out his idea of a trap. Thankfully none of them asked him to leave, considering he was the “worm” he would have argued he had a right to know what was going on, and that would have just wasted time.

Unfortunately after a couple of hours Dean began to feel exhaustion creeping up on him and various aches and pains in his body began making themselves known, reminding him of how Samuel had insisted on that damned bed rest for three days. OK, so maybe he wasn’t as healed up as he originally thought. He stayed however as long as he possibly could, until he began to literally waver on his feet, and he finally had to concede defeat and turned to Michael.

“I need to lay down.” He whispered softly, a little ashamed at having to admit his own weakness. 

* * *

Although Samuel’s protest and departure left a somber cloud over the room, the angels had work to do. Views were given on the best ways and places to lure Cain to Dean. When arguments broke out over whether he could be kept safe under certain situations, quite a few of them thought he ought to leave the room. However, Michael stepped in and barred any mention of throwing the human who would put his life at risk out of the room.

When Dean finally admitted his need for rest, Michael ushered him out. The plans were coming together, though they would be at it for the rest of the night and would like then have to coax Samuel into approving. Sighing at the thought, he walked with Dean.

“You have won many of us over this night. Not only for offering yourself, because believe me, many… including Gabriel … believe you did that in order to speed your redemption, but because you stood up to both Gabriel and Samuel. You, my son, have walked where angels fear to tread,” he said, grinning..

They passed many doors as they walked the long marbel hall, and he nodded at one of the doors, “Samuel is in the chapel, praying for patience and assistance in holding his temper, not doubt.” Again, he cracked a decidedly unangelic smile, and stopped in front of Dean’s door. “Rest well, you will need your strength tomorrow.” In the way of the angels, Michael leaned in and kissed Dean lightly on the mouth. “And try to keep out of trouble. I now understand the meaning of ‘trouble magnet.’” With that, he walked away.

* * *

As Dean walked beside Michael down the long hallways that would take him back to his and Samuel’s rooms, he couldn’t help but be surprised and touched by the angel’s praise. Michael’s opinion meant a lot to him, not only because he was one of the few angels that had always treated him with a measure of respect, but because he was Samuel’s friend.

Despite the situation between him and his lover, Dean was pleased to hear that he had “won over” some of the other angels at least. Not that he was really surprised to hear that many of them thought he had only done it to try to “buy” his way into heaven, but he really didn’t give a fuck what they thought. That wasn’t the reason he was doing this. That wasn’t the reason he had decided to become a hunter. He was doing it because it was right, and it would save people’s lives. Even if his efforts didn’t make a difference of whether or not he was damned when he died, he’d still do it.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh softly when Michael pointed out that even other _angels_ were reluctant to stand up to Gabriel and Samuel. Even as his heart ached a little more as they passed by a door and Michael indicated Sam was inside. Dean wanted nothing more than to stop there and go see his lover, try to explain, ask Sam to forgive him, but he knew that was a bad idea right now. So he continued to follow Michael, stopping outside “his” room.

“Thanks…” Dean began, and was surprised by the unexpected kiss. Maybe he should have been used to it by now, seeing Samuel and Michael kiss and hug in greeting and farewell all the time, but he simply wasn’t prepared for it. He also wasn’t prepared for the slight flush that stained his cheeks afterwards, despite how chaste it had been.

Michael’s “warning” to keep out of trouble and calling him a trouble magnet didn’t really surprise Dean one bit, no doubt Samuel had referred to him that way to the other angel. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes a little, giving Michael a little wave goodbye before he opened the door and went inside.

Dean made his way wearily over to the bed, his exhaustion bone deep by this point and he didn’t even have the energy to undress himself before he flopped down on top of the covers. As much as it hurt he resisted the urge to contact Sam over their link before he closed his eyes, not even to tell him good night, or more importantly, that he loved him. He simply wasn’t sure if Samuel would want to talk to him at all right now.

It was to those despairing thoughts he slipped off to sleep to. 

* * *

Hours later, Samuel had gone back to the meeting. He wasn’t about to allow others to decide Dean’s fate. If he were to be used as bait, then Samuel would do his best to make sure he was as safe as possible.

The battle of wills between himself and Gabriel was wearing. They clashed over every idea, with Sam taking the conservative routes and Gabriel wanting to use Dean as a disposable being. As things got heated, there were veiled insinuations. Samuel pointing out that it appeared as if Gabriel was intentionally trying to put Dean in the most precarious situations and that he must have another agenda, one that targeted the human. Gabriel was equally vocal about Samuel’s too close relationship with the human, his over emotional state when it came to dealings relating to Dean.

After the plan was mostly set, Samuel strode down the long hallway, trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the room in which they’d just put together a plot that would put Dean right in the eye of danger. It had taken everything the angel had to keep the curses from pouring out of his mouth, and now he had a throbbing headache... something else he’d never had in all the years _before Dean._.

His steps faltered as he approached Dean’s room, which connected to his own. He walked in, and stood over his lover’s bed, looking down at his features... so innocent in sleep. He was still hurt by the betrayal. Perhaps it wasn’t a betrayal, but by Dean’s having gone to the others, having circumvented him like that.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned over Dean, bracing his hands on the bed. Love and worry were a lethal combination. He was sure he would get no sleep, but he was glad Dean was getting rest. Lowering his head, he kissed his forehead, lingering slightly to breath in his familiar scent. Fighting the urge to climb into the same bed, he pulled away. _Why do you test me so?_

Turning on his heels, he walked through the adjoining door, leaving it slightly cracked and took a book to bed. It might relax him... might.

* * *

Dean’s dreams hadn’t been completely restful. He still didn’t sleep very well when he wasn’t sleeping with Samuel, but at least they were just normal nightmares this time and not visits from terrifyingly evil former angel’s.

He was exhausted enough that he’d slept through most of the bad dreams however. Though at one point they shifted abruptly and suddenly all he could feel was the warmth, comfort, and love he craved. The light brush of soft tender lips across his forehead making him sigh in contentment. But then it was gone just as abruptly as it had come, leaving him feeling colder and even more alone.

When Dean opened his eyes he felt a momentary sense of panic not knowing where he was, not recognizing the room, and most importantly that he was alone. The feeling died quickly however as his memory returned to him and he realized he remembered he was in Gabriel’s home (ugh) and that was the reason why he was sleeping alone too. Well, one of the reasons…

The other reason was because he had pissed off Samuel royally for going behind the angel’s back. He wondered what Samuel was angrier about, the fact that he had made plans that would put him in danger but maybe have a chance of catching Cain, or the fact that he hadn’t told him first. Of course even if he had asked first Samuel would never have “let” him do it. That was the whole reason why Dean had gone to Michael.

Dean sighed softly, turning his head and seeing the light on through the crack in the door that led to Samuel’s room. Well, at least the angel had come back. He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if Sam had asked for a different room away from him.

The young man’s heart twisted at that thought. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, biting his lip in indecision. The desire to get up and close the distance between them warring with his fear of what Samuel might say to him. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with a heated argument with his lover right now.

He almost didn’t realize some part of him had apparently made the decision for him while he was still thinking about it before he was standing just outside Samuel’s door, out of the shaft of light, his hand hesitating over the door knob. Hopefully if Sam didn’t want him there it would be clear enough from Sam’s expression within the first two seconds that Dean could back peddle and return to his own bed before the angel even realized he was there.

As he carefully pushed open the door he couldn’t help but remember a similar instance, a year ago now, the first time he had asked to sleep with Samuel because of his nightmares. He had been so unsure, so afraid of being turned away, but Sam never had.

There was always the first time…

* * *

As per was usual for Samuel, when he was troubled, he threw himself into reading. This night was no exception. Concentration had to be forced though, just to prevent additional worrying, or other strong emotions, that might flood his bond with Dean and wake up his lover.

His good intentions aside, Sam heard the door move slightly. Even though he didn't look up, he felt Dean's presence with every fiber in his body. He didn't have to rely on the bond to tell him Dean was unsure... that he was hesitating... that he was hurting. The last was something Samuel couldn't allow, he never could.

Without looking up, he lifted the blanket up in invitation. A few heartbeats later, Dean was inside the bed, and he dropped the cover over him, though Sam stayed lying on top of the covers, still looking at his book for a time.

He took a breath, tried to makes sure he had a grip on his emotions, then he turned, putting his palm on Dean's forehead, trying to keep his lover calm because if they let their emotions rule them now, it could be explosive.

His gaze locked with his love's and seeing the questions in them, he shook his head. "I _can't_ stand the thought of you ..." His voice shook with emotion, even as he worked hard to suppress it. "If something happens to you, I..." Things started to rattle inside the room. Samuel closed his eyes. "I can't do this... can't do it here, now. Sleep now."

He felt the bed move and shook his head again. "Don't touch me... if ..." He mentally showed him an image of them kiss. "I won't be able to stop, and we just cant... not here Dean. Can't."

* * *

Dean knew his heart had to be beating so hard with trepidation that even if the sound of the door hadn’t given away that he was there, Sam probably would have heard that instead. When Samuel didn’t even look up at him however Dean bit his lip hard, feeling his eyes beginning to burn in spite of himself, and he took a hesitant step back. Ready to return to his own bed where he wouldn’t bother his lover, and try his damndest to keep the tears that were threatening to fall inside. He wasn’t a girl or a child, god damn it.

He’d known Sam was angry at him. He’d known this was a bad idea to start with. He’d known that Sam probably didn’t want to see or speak to him right now. It was just stupid to feel so hurt and disappointed now knowing all that…

When Samuel suddenly lifted up the side of the covers, even though he still didn’t look at Dean, the young man’s heart did a little flip and he felt a little weak kneed with relief and hope. Though he still entered the room and approached the bed a little hesitantly, maybe expecting Sam to change his mind, and didn’t start to relax a little until the angel arranged the covers comfortably over him.

Dean knew his eyes had to be filled with nervousness and uncertainty when Samuel finally looked at him, and the young man’s heart clenched a little painfully at Sam’s expression. Not to mention his words. Dean wanted to reply, he wanted to reassure the angel that nothing was going to happen to him, he had even opened his mouth to do that, but the threatening rattle of objects around the room quickly silenced him.

So he merely nodded slightly when Sam told him to go to sleep, he didn’t want to upset Sam more, so he’d just do what the angel said. Though when he tried to push himself up, just to give his lover a gentle good night kiss, to show Sam how much he loved him, Sam’s almost harsh order not to touch him was like a vicious slap. Dean felt tears crowding once more behind his eyes before he could stop them, but he nodded again anyway even though Sam still wasn’t looking at him.

He rolled over, putting his back to Sam so the angel wouldn’t have to look at him and as close to the edge of the bed as he could without falling off. Dean closed his eyes more to keep in the tears than any real desire for sleep anymore. It was strange how he felt more alone now with Sam less than a few feet away from him than he had when he’d been in the next room. 

* * *

Tomorrow, this youth… his ward, his lover, the one man that meant everything to Samuel, the one thing, person, that Samuel could not afford to lose, could never replace, could not live without… would face an enemy so strong, so wily, so devious, so evil, Dean could not even comprehend it. And yet Samuel was curse with that knowledge. Cursed, and literally tortured by it.

Playing bait for Cain, that was as dangerous as volunteering to go to hell. Why couldn’t Dean understand? Why didn’t he get the depth of his love for Dean made it impossible for him to be happy, cautiously optimistic or even just nonchalant when Dean placed himself in the eye of the storm like he was doing now? Didn’t Dean know him yet?

The answer was that he knew him _too well._ So well that he’d known Samuel wouldn’t countenance his plan. So well he’d gone behind his back to others. _His ward_ had gone to others. And now, he was a pawn for others. The tables started to rattle, the items on top of them shifting and threatening to fall to the ground.

Gritting his teeth, Samuel prayed for serenity. It took some time, but he’d regained some of it before he allowed himself to think of the emotions coming from Dean. He felt Dean’s anxiety, his despair.

Then he felt something worse… the depth of his loneliness.

_Dean, I know you don’t understand. I am sorry. For everything you are feeling, I am sorry. For being unable to hold you now, I am sorry. God help me, I cannot change this._

As he put his head back against the headboard, a stream of Dean-worthy curses ran through his mind. Rarely had he felt this impotent, this powerless, and an angel with all of his years did not like it. 

* * *

Sam's words whispered in his head did nothing to comfort Dean, as he was sure that they did nothing to comfort Sam either. Not understand? Perhaps not. But Dean didn't need to completely understand to know what Samuel was feeling, because the angel never had been able to lock him out of his mind and Dean was doing nothing to shield himself from the waves of emotion coming from Sam. The young hunter didn't need to hear the rattling of various objects around the room in response to Sam's strong emotions, he could feel them loud and clear.

He could feel all of Samuel's anger, all of Samuel's fear, all of his frustration, and all of his despair. He could feel every dark emotion that the normally quite serene angel never felt except on rare occasions. At least, not to this degree. Not nearly to this degree.

Sam thought he was going to die tomorrow, Dean suddenly realized. The angel wasn't afraid something _might_ happen to him. Samuel was certain of it. So certain of it Sam was acting like he was already dead, already mourning him…

That certainly did nothing to promote any confidence in Dean at the angels ability to keep him safe while he was hanging out on that hook… but it was too late to back out now. It wasn't as though he cared if they thought he was a coward for having second thoughts. The reason why he couldn't back out was the same reason he'd thought up this crazy plan to begin with. Cain needed to be stopped. Even if it cost him his life…

Well, fuck it. If this was really going to be his last few hours on Earth, if this was going to be all the time he had left with Samuel, he sure as hell wasn't going to spend it like this. Dean rolled over to face Sam and pushed away the covers. He grabbed Sam's damned book out of the angel's lap, tossing it carelessly onto the floor somewhere, and straddled his lover's hips. His hands braced on the headboard on either side of Sam as he pressed their chests together, using all the strength he could to pin his lover there. While it certainly wouldn't be enough to stop Sam if the angel was determined to shove him away Dean wasn't going to let Sam do it without a fight.

"If you're so damned certain I'm going to die tomorrow, what do you care if anyone finds out we're lovers?" Dean stated matter-of-factly before crushing his lips against the angel's.

* * *

Though he felt Dean shifting around, changing positions, Samuel kept his eyes glued to his book. His emotions were unnaturally high, and he knew he would not be able to carry on a conversation that did not lead to a bad place between them. He didn’t want their last words to be hurtful, painful, or twisted the way Dean sometimes twisted the meaning of what he said. No, he wouldn’t allow any more misunderstandings. By morning, he would have his emotions under control, and would tell Dean what was on his mind.

The bed moved again, then the book he’d been gripping like a shield was torn out of his hand. Jaw clenched, Samuel started to look up when Dean straddled him, basically trapping him against the headboard. Eyes locked with Deans, his nostrils flared slightly as his breaths deepened. Didn’t he understand? This was _not the place. Not the time._

Their gazes clashed. Battled. Sam started to push Dean and became aware of how tightly he was holding onto the headboard. He opened his mouth to chide him, to remind him where they were, why this could not be, when Dean spoke first.

Words spoken so casually about dire matters, ripped the Angel’s insides. His lover’s death... even he himself had not put that thought to words, because he could not contemplate it, did not wish to face it.

Fear for Dean was choking him, almost terrifying him... it made him weak. Too weak to fight Dean anymore. When his lover’s mouth sank down over his, the _right thing_ was the furthest thing from Samuel’s mind. The tension that had been like a powder keg between them suddenly exploded, shattering Sam’s control.

Sam cupped the back of Dean’s head, holding him in place as he kissed him back with a hunger born of fear, or love, or a need that ran so deep it scared the angel. As their mouths crushed together, Sam’s tongue battled Dean’s, tasting him, savoring him, treasuring him. He wanted this... wanted it for all time, and if he couldn’t have ‘all time,’ then he wanted every moment Dean had, without his life being cut short.

“Dean...” Lifting his body, he writhed against his lover’s form, moaning as his stomach contracted and wave after wave of desire and pleasure broke over him. “Don’t you die on me, don’t you _fucking_ die on me,” he ordered, tears slipping down his cheeks.

* * *

For a moment Dean wasn’t sure that Sam was going to give in. Why he was even worried he wasn’t sure, because when had Samuel ever truly denied him anything? If he pushed hard enough, Sam always gave in. If he hadn’t, then they never would have become lovers in the first place. They wouldn’t be here, now, like this. And no matter how painful it sometimes was, especially when they argued, he wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Samuel’s mouth opened beneath his own, and Dean wasted no time thrusting his tongue inside, exploring every inch. Their tongues tangling and fighting together for control of the kiss Dean moaned into the angel’s mouth as Sam’s hand cupped the back of his head, drawing him closer, rather than shoving him away. His lover’s fingers almost bruising tight.

Sam arched beneath him and Dean thrust back, and Dean barely realized when his hands left the headboard to clutch at the angel’s shoulders instead. Rubbing his growing hardness against Samuel’s stomach, feeling his lover’s answering desire pressing against his ass every time he rocked his hips against the angel’s body.

Sam’s whispered demand made a choked sound escape his throat and he clung to the angel even tighter if it was possible. His fingers running through the angel’s hair, practically tugging on the soft strands but his lover didn’t seem to mind.

“No. You can’t get rid of me that easy.” Dean reassured with all the conviction he could muster. Kissing away the tears that slipped down Samuel’s cheeks. Uncaring about the ones that covered his own. “I won’t let anything take me away from you, ever.”

Then trying to diffuse some of the pain and tension they were both feeling, Dean added with playful grin.

“Though you might regret that… when I’m old and grey and not any fun in the sack anymore.”

* * *

Samuel didn’t know how Dean did this to him, drove him to the brink, dragged him down paths no angel should take, made him so crazy that he forgot about the risks, forgot everything but Dean. Somehow it had always been so, from the first cry of help he’d heard in his head, to the time he’d allowed him back into his house, accepted his dangerous career, and now. In the house of Gabriel.

Each promise of survival given between kisses intensified Sam’s fear for his lover, reminded him of how frail humans were, and that it was rare for David to eradicate Goliath, when Goliath happened to be a fallen angel. _Can’t lose you. Nothing would be left of me. Nothing._

Without loosening his grip on the back of Dean’s head, Samuel wrapped his other arm around Dean, dragging him closer as he bent his knees slightly behind Dean, supporting his back. He wanted his lover, wanted him so bad, with every fiber of his being. The thought of losing him, or never tasting him again, of never hearing his voice, or smiling at his cocky comments, or burning up like this, together, calling each others’ names until they exploded, it knifed him in the heart.

Dean’s joke made him want to weep harder. _I want to see you old and gray._ Suddenly, this wasn’t enough. He wanted to be inside his lover, needed to prove to himself Dean was still here, his lover was still here. Mentally telling him to lift up, he pulled Dean’s shorts down to his thigh. Then lifting his own hips, even with Dean riding him, he managed to pull his light blue cotton pants down midway on his thighs.

Then they were skin to skin, and he was drawing Dean closer again, his cock throbbing and pulsing against Dean’s ass, the hard knot of Dean’s arousal pressing tantalizingly against his stomach, rubbing against it, sending little electrical thrills through the angel. “Love you Dean. Love you always. Never want to let you go. Not now, not when you’re old and gray, not ever.”

* * *

Dean’s smile slipped off his face when his “joke” only seemed to fill Samuel with more despair. He hated feeling such sadness, such fear, coming from his love. He wished there was something he could do to ease it, but short of promising to stay locked up hidden away here forever where he would remain “safe”, even while Cain burned down the world around him, he didn’t know what would.

_I’ll never leave you._ The young man swore again, even in his heart he knew he couldn’t keep that promise forever. Because even if he didn’t die tomorrow, or on a hunt sometime in the future, or in a car crash, or whatever, one day he _would_ become old, one day he would die, and nothing was ever going to stop that. One day _something_ was going to take him away from Samuel, whether he wanted it to or not. All he could promise was that he would never willingly leave the angel and he would fight tooth and nail against anything that did try to tear them apart.

The next kiss he gave Sam was soft yet deep. Full of promise, longing, reassurance and love. He didn’t want this moment over quickly. He wanted it to last forever. He wanted Sam to touch him forever, kiss him forever, and make love to him for the rest of his life. He kissed Samuel like he planned on staying in his arms for all time. _Here, always…_

When Sam eased him up a little, Dean did so without hesitation, moaning in approval when he felt his shorts being slid down, exposing him for his lover. Dean remained up on his knees just long enough for Sam to do the same, and then he let Samuel pull him back in close. He moaned wantonly, tilting his head back and arching against his lover, rubbing his hard leaking cock against the firm planes of Sam’s stomach. Pushing back and down as Sam’s hard hot cock slid between the cheeks of his ass, over his hole, like a brand. Burning him and leaving him aching for more.

“Never…” Dean echoed, running his palms over Samuel’s shoulders, up his neck, and into his hair again. Tilting the angel’s head back a little as his mouth fastened to the side of his throat, kissing and biting and sucking on the soft flesh, marking Sam as his own. _Want you in me. Fuck me. Love me. I’m yours. Always…_  


* * *

  
_Yes. Yes. Yes… Yes, Dean._ Sam answered each of Dean's vows, holding him, kissing him as fiercely, as wildly as he was fucking him, pulling him close and allowing him to pull back slighty, helping him rock against him. His cock pulsed and throbbed deep inside his lover, claiming him, proof of the angel's complete capitulation to this one boy… one man who'd gotten under his skin, like no man should.

The taste of tears mingled with joy. Joy in what they had, what they shared. It might be a sin, but for all the hours Samuel had contemplated the matter, he had found their love to be pure and true. Special. Special enough to break all the rules.

He raised his hips, dragging Dean down over his rock hard cock, sounds breaking from him as his lover's body squeezed tight around him. Struggling for breath, burning for his lover, now and forever, Samuel never felt the approach of other angels.

The door opened. "By all that is holy… or in this case, uhholy," Gabriel ground out through clenched teeth, eyes on the writhing figures on the bed. "Tell me, am I imagining things now, brother Michael?"

Michael averted his face but could not help but listen to the lovers' breaths and moans, now stayed. He didn't answer, but his shoulders hunched and he whispered Samuel's name in his head. _What have you done._..

Samuel whipped the sheets up over them, holding it protectively over his lover, eyes meeting Gabriel's. "A moment of privacy." When the archangel failed to move, Samuel asked again. "Please."

* * *

“God, yes…” Dean groaned when Samuel’s flesh finally penetrated him, pushing deep, filling him completely. So hot. So hard. So perfect. There was no more foreplay. No more hesitation. As Samuel devoured his mouth, swallowing his moans of pleasure, the angel fucked up into him and Dean rode his lover with just as much desperation and abandonment.

His fingers dug into the angel’s strong shoulders, the muscles in his thighs strained as he lifted himself up and dropped down, taking his lover deep into his body, meeting Sam halfway again and again. The angel’s cock hitting that sweet spot inside of him with every hard deep thrust and Dean only moaned louder, clutched Sam tighter with his hands and with his body, never wanting to let the angel go. Never wanting to be parted from him…

He didn’t hear the door open, he didn’t even hear Gabriel’s words, too focused upon Samuel to think of anything else. Which was why he instantly stilled when he felt the sudden shift in the angel’s mood. The sudden alarm, fear even, though the worst was the shame…

Dean’s head snapped around to the doorway where the two other angels stood just _watching_ them, and while on one level he was certainly embarrassed about being caught in such a compromising position, not to mention worried by what he felt coming from Samuel, at the forefront of his mind was anger. Anger at the intrusion surely, and by Gabriel no less. Didn’t angels fucking know how to knock! But more than that he was furious because of the interruption of something so precious, so important, so _sacred_ between himself and Samuel.

The young man didn’t really care about the sheet Samuel wrapped around him, not like he had much dignity left at this point. But when Sam, rather more politely than Dean thought he should in this situation, asked the other angels to leave and Gabriel simply stood there looking at them (at least Michael had the decency to look away) Dean exploded.

“Get the hell out of here, you fucking pervert!” 

* * *

Dean’s shout echoed and reverberated in the otherwise silent room. Arm still around him, Samuel’s fingers dug into his skin, partly meant to stop him from another outburst and partly to calm him.

Gabriel's blazing gaze turned to Dean for a split second, his beautiful face marred by an expression of pure hate, before his piercing gaze turned back to Sam.

The silence stretched. Samuel never looked away from Gabriel, silently asking the angel to give them some privacy.

Gabriel barely nodded. “Three minutes,” he said in clipped tones, turning his heels and stalking out. Head slightly bowed, shoulders hunched, Michael followed.

Samuel knew that if his friend looked up, sadness would be etched in his friend’s face. The instant the door closed. Sam rolled them over, braced himself on one elbow and moved his hand over Dean’s cock, grasping it firmly. _One minute to come, two to talk._ He wasn’t leaving Dean like this, not if it was their last time.

Melding their mouths together, he kissed him hard, pumping his cock, single-mindedly fucking him faster and faster, as if they hadn’t been interrupted. _Love me. Love me like they don’t matter._ White hot heat spread through Sam’s system, burning all thoughts out of his mind, making it impossible for him to think for the moment of anything but this… what he shared with Dean. 

* * *

Dean felt Sam’s fingers digging into his skin and that was probably the only reason why he didn’t say anything more. Though that didn’t stop him from glaring back at the angel who had barged in on them, not even flinching when Gabriel threw him the most hate filled glare that he ever had… and that was saying a lot.

Only when the other angels finally turned and left did Dean begin to relax a little, however Michael’s demeanor worried him more than he wanted to admit. Of course Dean hadn’t forgotten all of Sam’s warnings that they had to keep their relationship a secret. Of course he hadn’t forgotten how Samuel had told him it was a sin for angels to love. But Sam had never gone into any kind of detail just _what_ might happen if they were ever caught. Dean had foolishly never asked…

He was regretting that now. Just as he was regretting for pushing Sam, knowing the angel had never been able to deny him anything, and ignoring Samuel’s warnings… He just never thought that someone would just _walk in_ on them without any warning. What the hell were Gabriel and Michael doing here at this time of night anyway without even bothering to fucking knock on the door?!

Before Dean could say anything, to ask those questions or even apologize to Sam for what he had done, the angel had flipped them over. Dean landing on his back on the bed with an oomph, the only sound he managed a gasping moan as Samuel grabbed his cock and drove into him. Fuck. While he would have sworn that having Gabriel barge in on him and Sam having sex was one of the quickest ways to completely kill the mood, Samuel was quickly proving him wrong.

Dean could do little more than wrap his arms around his lover, clutching on to him as though for dear life, as Sam fucked into him hard and fast. Lifting his hips, wrapping his legs around the angel’s waist, allowing Sam even deeper into his body. How Samuel had even kept his erection through all that was a mystery, and how Dean could even think about anything except _Fuck. God. Yes. Harder._ was an even bigger one.

The young man was arching beneath the angel, clutching to Sam, and moaning like he was in the sleaziest porno. Maybe a vindictive part of him trying to be as loud as possible, not caring about how Gabriel and Michael were probably just on the other side of the door listening. Wanting Gabriel to hear and know he’d never have Samuel like Dean had him. Mostly though, he simply didn’t care what they thought. He didn’t care about anything except Samuel and making sure that his lover knew how he was affecting him. Making sure that Sam knew just how much he loved him. If he had to scream it at the top of his lungs he would. Hell, he wanted everyone to fucking know, and he didn’t care.

“Samuel… Love you… fuck, yes… I love you!” Dean all but screamed as he came. _Forever. No matter what. Forever…_  


* * *

Dean’s sounds, his words, the desperate way he clutched his shoulder, the rebelliously loud pronouncements of his love emblazoned themselves forever in Samuel’s mind. Samuel didn’t care… didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ anymore, either. They already knew, so one more piece of knowledge about how good it was between them would do nothing, change nothing. He would have his last moments with Dean and wouldn’t waste them on regret or fear. “Love you. More than anything. More than life. More than _Him,_ ” he answered, careening out of control with his lover… his life.

Samuel came hard, almost violently, deep inside Dean, groaning out his name, kissing him like it was the end of the world. His lover’s hot cum coated his hand, and his stomach, and was still coming in spurts. Nothing, nothing could ever compare to this… the feeling of completeness when he was inside Dean, body, and mind. So in synch, so focused, so secluded in their own world. “Love you… Dean, always,” he whispered, brushing his mouth Dean’s cheeks, tracing his jaw… memorizing him as the heat they’d generated subsided.

He gave Dean a moment to catch his breath, then spoke again. “I have to go. I have to make sure Gabriel does not cut me out of tomorrow. I need to be there when you face… but I have to convince him.” He kissed Dean’s throat and pulled slightly away, staring into his eyes. “I – will – be – there. No matter what.” A breeze kicked up in the room as he made the vow. 

* * *

Dean moaned helplessly at the feeling of Sam coming inside him was so fucking hard and hot it felt like his insides were burning. His lover kissing him till he couldn’t breathe, and Dean didn’t even care. Nothing ever felt more perfect than this. Nothing ever felt more right… even now… as Sam touched him, held him, whispered to him… as though it would be for the last time.

He was still panting hard when Samuel spoke, but the angel’s words made his breath freeze in his chest. The realization had barely flickered in his mind before Dean’s whole body went cold and numb even as it still vibrated with the pleasure they’d shared. It was dizzying going from such heights of pleasure to sudden gut wrenching fear. His fingers were no longer digging into the angel’s muscles in need, but simply to keep Sam here, with him. Like Samuel would be torn away from him forever.

Cut him out? Tomorrow… tomorrow when he would be used as bait to lure out Cain… Alone? Without Samuel? Gabriel… he wouldn’t… would he? Surely the angel as much of a bastard as he was, wasn’t completely heartless? What was Dean thinking? Nothing would make the other angel happier than to see him dead. Surely more so now than before… and Samuel… what would happen to Samuel? He was more worried about what would happen to Sam than about what might happen to him tomorrow.

A sin… that was what Samuel had called it, what they were doing… a sin for angels. Would Sam be punished? Would they even ever be allowed to see each other again? If Sam thought they wouldn’t even let him be there when Dean was facing off against Cain… No… That couldn’t happen… The idea of never seeing Sam again… Never touching him again… Never loving him again…

Dean’s hold tightened around Samuel even more, refusing to let the angel pull away from him.

“I’m sorry. You were right. I shouldn’t have… What’s going to happen? You have to tell me… Please, Sam…” Dean didn’t mean tomorrow. He didn’t even really care about tomorrow. 

* * *

Dean’s fears, his worries came at Samuel in waves. If only he could push them aside and reassure him, if only he could tell him they were silly, that he should forget them. If only. He wrapped his arms tighter around his lover, his wings unfurling and forming a second protective envelope over him. If he could hold him forever, keep him… Samuel closed his eyes as his heart contracted.  
  
“No… no Dean, no apologies,” he whispered, brushing his temple with his mouth. If anyone had done wrong, it was him. There were not laws that applied to humans, just angels in this. “Stupid rule.” His fingers dug slightly harder into his lover’s flesh.  
  
Hard questions, one’s he didn’t know quite how to answer. If Dean was risking his life tomorrow, he couldn’t have him worrying about what would happen to _them_. His mind had to be focused on survival. Swallowing, breathing in his lover’s familiar scent, Sam strove to give him an answer, one that wouldn’t send him around the bend. Yet.  
  
“I will have a meeting with Gabriel now. I’ll convince him to allow me to be a part of tomorrow. Dean, if you do not see me… if you do not hear my thoughts telling you to go, I want you to promise to … you refuse to go and you demand protection as a ward of Samuel. They cannot force you,” he said, his voice getting a bit thick with emotion. “If I am there, then… if you have not changed your mind, then…” He wanted Dean to take it back, to refuse to help regardless. The angels would find another way to trap Cain. But Sam wouldn’t pressure him now. He’d tried and failed before, and guilting him now would not be the right thing to do.  
  
He knew Dean wouldn’t let it go at that. “The rest is up to Gabriel. We will learn his verdict soon, but don’t think about that now.” He wasn’t about to detail the past punishments that had been meted out for similar failings. “Dean, be brave... brave for me,” he said, pleading with his lover.

* * *

Dean felt the soft feathers of Samuel’s wings wrap around him, almost like a protective cocoon, shutting out the rest of the world. The young man ran his fingers gently down the beautiful pristine feathers. He’d always loved touching them. Seeing Sam as he truly was…

He nodded faintly when Sam told him not to apologize. No. He wouldn’t apologize for loving Sam. Not ever. He didn’t mean that. He only meant right now. For getting them caught like this when Samuel had _warned_ him. But because he’d been too damned stubborn… too damned needy…

“Very stupid.” Dean agreed, not only meaning the ‘rule’ they’d broken together. At least his voice only came out a little choked.

Gabriel… The idea that his lover’s fate was going to rest in the hands of that cold hearted bastard made Dean feel almost physically ill. Samuel warning him if he did not see or hear from the angel tomorrow only worried him more. Because so far the only place Samuel had been able to go where Dean couldn’t hear his thoughts was when he’d flown into that hell gate… Dean did not like what that implied, not at all.

“I promise.” Dean said, and he meant it. He might have gone to Michael with his plan to lure out Cain behind Samuel’s back, but he would not try to face him without his lover there. If only so that it would force Gabriel to allow him to see Samuel again. If Gabriel wanted Cain that badly, if he wanted Dean to cooperate, then he would let him see Sam again, god damn it.

Don’t think about it now… Dean almost wanted to laugh at that. How could he possibly not? When just the thought of letting Samuel go… knowing he might not see him tomorrow, or ever again…

“Let me come with you?” Dean blurted out, already knowing Samuel’s answer but he had to try anyway. “If you’re going to be… punished… I’m just as much to blame. More even…”

* * *

Dean's quick agreement eased some of Sam's fears. _Thank you._. He knew Dean was savvy enough to work it so that he absolutely would not help the angels unless they met their end of the deal.

Samuel immediately shook his head 'no.' "I don't think there will be punishment yet. Please... don't think about that. Dean, I have lived thousands of years... I have flown through the fires of hell. Remember that, before you waste your time worrying about me."

Reluctantly, he unfurled his wings and kissing Dean one more time, gently untangled himself from his lover and got up. He ran his hand through his hair, eyes still drinking in the sight of Dean, still flushed and warm from their lovemaking. "The sight of you will only antagonize him further. I need him in as ... good... mood as possible."

He snorted at that and strode to the bathroom, continuing to speak as he cleaned himself up. "Just remember, you are not at fault, don't let anyone treat you as if you are. Some will resent..." he sighed, knowing many would resent it. They'd blame Dean for his absence from their ranks.

Returning, Samuel quickly dressed, and leaning down onto the bed bracing on his hands, walked forward, bringing his face close to Dean's. "I'll see you in the morning." _I am only a thought away._ Leaning in just a little more, he kissed him lightly and pulled back.

Forcing himself to turn his back on his ward, his lover... his life, Samuel walked straight backed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He'd expected Gabriel to be in Dean's room, but was surprised to find him waiting outside, in the hall. Eyes clashed for a moment, before he lowered his and followed the ranking angel.

* * *

Dean made a face at Samuel’s assessment regarding him _wasting_ his time worrying over his lover. Like Sam had any reason to talk, since all the angel seemed to do was worry about _him_. He wished the angel would worry half as much about himself as he worried about Dean. Perhaps because Samuel _had_ lived those thousands of years, he thought himself invincible or something. He wasn’t. Dean had seen that quite clearly, he didn’t know why Sam refused to. However Dean wasn’t about to start an argument with Sam over it _now_ of all times.

Later… if there was a later…

The young man felt his heart squeeze in his chest when the angel’s soft feathers began to unwrap around him, leaving him feeling strangely cold even before Sam actually started to pull away. Dean forced himself to release his hold around his lover. Even though he wanted nothing more than to cling to Sam and refuse to let the angel out of his sight. Samuel had asked him to be brave however, and he wouldn’t cling to the angel like a scared child. Even if he was more scared for Sam than himself.

Dean nodded slightly in understanding when Sam refused to take him along. He knew it was a really _really_ long shot to begin with, but a part of him had still hoped. Samuel was right though. Even though he almost snorted as well at the angel’s comment about Gabriel being in a _good_ mood. Yeah right… but as much as Dean hated to admit it he knew that Gabriel _did_ care about Samuel a lot. Loved him even… Dean wasn’t sure if that would make this better or worse right now. Dean had watched enough television to know that jealousy made people do really bad things sometimes…

Dean’s eyes never left the angel, even as his lover went into the bathroom to clean off the signs of their lovemaking from his skin. Even that was almost painful to watch, and Dean could say he honestly didn’t care about the resentment _other_ angels might feel towards him. He didn’t care what they thought of him. But he also knew that none of them could blame him more than he already blamed himself right now for what was happening. He didn’t, couldn’t, regret loving Samuel… but he did regret not listening to him… if he’d only listened…

When Sam came back to him, kissing him softly, and promising to see him in the morning Dean forced a small smile to his lips though he knew he wasn’t fooling either of them. He did try to shield his despair and guilt from Sam however, not wanting the angel to worry about him right now. Then he watched Samuel walk proudly to the door, without turning to look back at him once, and shut the door behind him… Dean felt it would have been similar to someone shutting the door to his own tomb.

Dean closed his eyes and swallowed hard, turning into the spot that was still a little warm from Samuel’s body heat and clutching the angel’s pillow close to him. Breathing in its scent deeply. He would see Sam again. He _would_ god damn it! And he was not going to fall apart like a little girl. Sam needed him strong right now. Needed him to take care of himself. He wasn’t a child, damn it.

The young man thought about keeping his mind connected to Samuel’s as he often had when the angel had gone off into battle, being able to see, hear, and feel everything the angel felt. But he didn’t know if Sam would want him to, or if it would distract him, or if him “being there” even in that small way would only make things worse. There was no way he was going to go to sleep now. No matter how exhausted his mind and body might be, he’d never stop worrying about Sam long enough to get any kind of decent sleep.

That didn’t leave him much to do… Still Dean forced himself to get out of the bed where he and his Samuel had made love… maybe for the last time. He returned to his room, found some clothes in bag Sam had packed for him, and put them on. Once he was dressed he spent a good fifteen minutes pacing around his room, feeling like he was going mad inside his own skin.

No one said he had to stay in here. Samuel hadn’t told him not to leave. It probably wasn’t a _good_ idea to leave, but he wasn’t a prisoner. He also… couldn’t stop thinking about why Michael and Gabriel had come here in the first place. Had it been some kind of sting operation just to catch them in the act? Or was it something else and just really bad timing all around?

Dean knew that he was probably the last person Michael wanted to see right now… but he had to know. So he left the room to look for Michael. 

* * *

The Angels didn’t need to be connected to know that Gabriel and Samuel were meeting. The volatile emotions of both angels had the big villa shaking at times. If not for its construction, plaster would be sprinkling from the ceilings, destroying the paintings and marble pillars might fall. Nothing dampened some of the sounds that reverberated through the building though.

Face edged with sadness, Michael walked out and went to the reflective pools. He sat on the very bench that he and Samuel’s... lover... had fashioned the plan to capture Cain. That plan, he had a notion that the reason they had come to this was that plan. Samuel had been so upset. He was a wise angel, even if he.... the only reason he’d be caught in a compromising position here, of all places, was he was emotionally spiraling out of control.

The shaking of the ground seemed only to emphasize his point.

Hearing footfalls, he looked up to see Dean walking toward him in the dark. The pain on that young man’s face, reflected in his expressive eyes, he could see why Samuel had no choice but to take him as a ward when he was in need. As for the rest... he did not like to judge. 

* * *

It took all of Dean’s willpower not to search out Samuel instead of Michael. Not to open up the link between them to know what the hell was going on. Feeling the vibrations in the walls, the fucking _floor_ was bad enough. If he didn’t know better he’d be afraid the two were going to actually kill each other.

So much for Gabriel being in a “good” mood…

Dean wondered if he _had_ gone with Samuel to this “meeting” if the other angel would have tried to kill him. Directly. No longer just wishing him dead. Or taking advantage of a situation where he could be killed and not intervening, like in Egypt. But Gabriel literally striking him down where he stood.

Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to think about that. The idea that a former angel, Cain, was already out to get him was bad enough. He didn’t want to think about a _real_ angel also trying to kill him. Though judging by Samuel’s last words to him, once news got out about him and the angel, many more angels might feel about him just like Gabriel felt…

Maybe even Michael. What if Michael hated him now? Wanted him dead?

That thought hurt a surprising amount, and was only one of many reasons why Dean’s footsteps faltered when he finally found Michael. Sitting on the exact same bench by the pools where they had talked hours before. Talk about ironic…

When the angel looked up at him, Dean stopped walking. Their eyes met for a long time, but he couldn’t read the expression on Michael’s face. Eventually Dean cast his eyes down at the ground, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. He cleared his throat but his voice still seemed to stick in his throat when he spoke.

“I can leave…” 

* * *

Michael’s gaze remained on Dean, watching him, waiting for him to approach or speak. His offer didn’t take the angel by surprise. The fact that he ventured out, past the other angels who had no love for him, that did. It spoke of the same bravery he’d seen in the youth when he’d volunteered for the mission.

“As you wish. But not on my account,” he answered eventually, patting the space next to him on the marble bench. “One thing I’ve learned over the centuries is that when you’re feeling alone, it helps to be close to someone who is close to the person you’re missing.” That went for angels as well as humans.

Michael took a deep breath, shaking his head as the ground shook once more. “That was Samuel. And that... that’s Gabriel.” He knew the difference, even if the human didn’t. “This is going to take hours.”

* * *

Dean waited, practically holding his breath, for the angel to respond. It seemed to take forever, though he knew realistically it could have only been a few seconds. When Michael finally did reply, the young man looked up almost cautiously and felt himself go a little weak with relief when the angel patted the space next to him on the bench, no sign of anger in his eyes. Dean hadn’t realized until now just how much Michael’s opinion of him meant to him. More than just because of the fact that he was such a good friend to Samuel. He had started thinking of the angel as a friend as well.

Offering the angel a hesitant smile, Dean approached and took the offered seat. Though he didn’t relax completely. How could he when he felt the fucking ground shake again?

The young man winced when Michael confirmed that the cause was Samuel... then Gabriel... he didn’t want to ask how the angel knew. He knew the answer wouldn’t be comforting in the least. Still he had to know...

“What... are they doing?” Dean practically whispered. This... seemed a lot more serious than a “discussion” and if Michael confirmed that Gabriel and Samuel were fighting. Like really fighting, not just with words or something, then he didn’t know what he was going to do. He didn’t think he’d just be able to sit here though. If Gabriel hurt Sam...

* * *

Michael gave a dry laugh. "Shouting. Posturing. It's a good thing everything is fixed in the building." Searching the youth's face, he saw worry. "Samuel can take care of himself. Even against Gabriel, you cannot," he said, in case the human got any ideas. He was impetuous, and a handful... just as Sam had described him. But whereas it had made Michael laugh back then, now he felt only sorrow for the both of them.

The angle ran a hand through his long dark hair, piercing blue eyes now looking into the waters. "Have you changed your mind? About tomorrow? It would be understandable," he said, looking back at the human.

He could feel waves of emotional turmoil coming from him, so he put his hand on Dean's back, radiating feelings of peace, but not taking any information from him. If he was to be assigned to someone else, Michael would volunteer. For his friend Samuel, as well as for Dean.

* * *

Shouting... Dean looked at Michael a little doubtfully but he finally nodded. It was still hard to believe that “shouting” could cause the fucking ground to shake, but he trusted Michael to tell him the truth. Though Dean sighed heavily and barely resisted rolling his eyes when the angel reminded him that Samuel could “take care of himself”. Yeah, Samuel had said much the same thing, but... god damn it, just because Sam _could_ take care of himself didn’t mean that Dean shouldn’t worry about him or try to take care of him too.  


  
It wasn’t because he thought that Samuel couldn’t take care of himself. Dean just wanted to, because he loved him...

Dean wasn’t really surprised when Michael asked him if he’d changed his mind about tomorrow. After all, the angel had risked a lot for him. Had risked Samuel’s wrath just so Dean could have the opportunity to voice his plan.

“No. I haven’t.” Dean said softly, glancing down at his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. Though in all honesty, he definitely wasn’t feeling as optimistic about his survival anymore, and he wasn’t all that optimistic to begin with. How could he be when he doubted whether or not the angels who were supposed to help keep him “safe” would probably rather him dead now? He’d even doubted Michael for a second...

“Samuel asked me not to do it if he wasn’t there. I promised him I wouldn’t.” Dean admitted softly. Surprised by the comforting weight of the angel’s hand on his back but accepting it at face value. Giving Michael a small smile of thanks. His smile slipped away quickly unfortunately.

“I love him. More than anything. I just... wanted you to know it wasn’t just...” The young man’s voice trailed off as he looked down at his hands again. Dean wasn’t sure if his admission would make it “better” or worse in the angel’s eyes. A sin was a sin right? Murder was murder no matter what the reasons, right? Stupid rule...

“What’s going to happen to us?” Dean finally forced himself to ask his voice barely above a breath. 

* * *

Michael wasn’t surprised at Samuel’s instructions, though he knew they came from the angel’s emotional and not rational response to the situation. “Most of us would do our duty an protect you. I will,” he said, meeting Dean’s gaze. “But I understand if you want to follow his instructions. Samuel can be... both forceful and persuasive.” He smiled as memories surfaced, and he was lost for a moment.

Then he heard Dean’s proclamation of love. “Many humans love angels. They cannot help themselves.” He moved his hand to Dean’s forehead. “But I believe your love is ... real.” He took a deep breath. “I suspected as much, and even that Samuel returned your feelings. I thought he would resist....” Another deep sigh left him.

His question about what would happen to Samuel shouldn’t have taken Michael by surprise. “I don’t know,” he answered with complete honesty. There was a wide range of punishments, and even hell was an option. Michael did not thing Gabriel would be that extreme with an angel that was so well loved and respected, one that ought not be forever lost to the ranks. But he had almost no doubt that the punishment would be long, longer than this young man’s life span.

“It is up to Gabriel. Others have to approve, but he is the key. I don’t know if his...” he hesitated. “If his own love for Samuel will help or hinder Samuel’s case. I’ll do everything in my power to sway him, as will many others. Have you met your competition? Rafael?” He actually laughed. “He is a great supporter of Samuel, _despite_ having heard him say you’re better looking.”

He tried to lighten the conversation, for the youth’s sake and for his own. “You should rest. I can put you into a sleep if you want me to,” he looked into Dean’s eyes.

* * *

It did relieve Dean a little bit to hear Michael reassure that _most_ of the angels would still be willing to protect him from Cain. Or, at least, Michael himself would. Dean wasn’t sure he was willing to bet his life on the other angels, however. Even if he was, he would still follow Samuel’s instruction and refuse to cooperate with the plan until he at least got to see Samuel again. Right now, it was probably the only bargaining chip he had to use that would ensure he would see his lover again…

Forceful and persuasive? Michael hadn’t seen anything yet.

Dean couldn’t say he was really surprised by Michael’s reply that most humans fell in love with angels because they couldn’t help themselves. After all, it was the same line that Samuel had tried to feed him over and over to dissuade him. Back when Samuel was still trying to resist what was between them. He wasn’t surprised, but he couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed by Michael’s answer.

Until Michael _did_ surprise him by the soft touch to his forehead and the angel’s words made him look up. A part of him was relieved. That Michael believed that he really did love Samuel, and that it wasn’t just sex between them. That he didn’t believe Dean would have gotten Sam into all this trouble just because the young man wanted to get laid.

Looking into Michael’s soft warm eyes right now, feeling the comfort offered by the gentle touch, Dean thought he finally understood too when they said how most humans couldn’t help but in love with angels. But Dean knew didn’t love Michael, at least, not as anything more than a friend. He knew because what he felt for Samuel was nothing like what he felt for Michael. It could never compare. But he understood how some could mistake it.

Michel’s reply, much like Samuel’s, that he didn’t know what would happen to his lover did not comfort Dean at all. Especially when accompanied by the look of complete sadness on the angel’s face. Knowing that other angels would fight on Samuel’s behalf, and that his lover’s fate wasn’t completely in Gabriel’s hands, did comfort Dean though. Michael’s comment regarding his “competition” Raphael actually made Dean crack a smile and laugh a little.

Dean sighed softly when Michael pointed out that he should rest. It was why he had left the meetings to go back to his room after all. He’d managed to sleep a little before Samuel had returned to their rooms, but it wasn’t nearly enough. He was still exhausted in mind, body, and soul. But Dean wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to sleep, even if he needed to. But knowing he had to be sharp tomorrow, he couldn’t afford to make mistakes because he was tired, Dean finally nodded.

However there was one more thing, the main reason why he had sought Michael out in the first place…

“When you came to our room… was it for a reason? Is there something I should know?” Dean asked softly, though he had to look away before he finished his question. “Or did you come just to catch us…”

When he said “you” he really meant Gabriel, but Michael _had_ been there too. 

* * *

When Dean nodded, Michael started to get up to walk him back to his room and to help him get that sleep he badly needed. Samuel's ward had grown on him, and he wanted to make this as easy as possible for him, though he well knew it would not end the way the youth had hoped it might.

He settled back down, eyes locking with Dean's, cooling at the accusation Dean launched at him. His expression hardened for the first time since Dean had walked up to him. "Samuel is my greatest friend. It has been so for centuries. I love him in a way you will never fathom." Although he was not one to easily be annoyed, the implication that he'd betrayed Samuel got him there fast. "If I had known what I was walking into, I would have walked the other way."

He stood up and walked to a pillar, putting one forearm on it and leaning, giving part of his back to Dean. "Gabriel said he had important details to go over. I told him I didn't need to be there, but he insisted." He looked over his shoulder at Dean. "I thought he mentally advised Sam we were on our way, it is customary. But even if he hadn't, Samuel should have felt our approach." This time, he was doing the accusing. He knew for a fact that if it hadn't been for the antics of this boy, Samuel would not have been caught so under Gabriel's own roof.

"As for Gabriel's agenda... I have reviewed everything that was said and done. I have no proof but in my gut, I believe he got what he hoped for."

* * *

Michael’s sudden anger and accusations weren’t much of a surprise to the young man, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt. They hurt a lot, in fact, because they came from Michael who he knew loved Samuel and he knew Samuel loved him. But he still had to ask... because Gabriel claimed to love Samuel too, and he had still done this to him.

No, not really. Gabriel hadn’t. _Dean_ had done this to Samuel. Michael didn’t need to remind him of that fact, though the reminder certainly stung. But the truth of it was that Dean didn’t really blame anyone but himself. He would have liked to blame Gabriel, oh how he would have loved to, but Samuel _had_ told him no. Not here. It was too dangerous. Dean had insisted anyway and now...

Seeing Michael looking at him so coldly, as he told him how Dean couldn’t possibly understand how Michael loved Samuel... so much for the angel believing his love for Samuel was real... made Dean flinch a little but he otherwise managed to keep his expression blank. He knew he deserved all of the other angel’s disdain, this was the welcoming he’d been expecting in the first place, so he didn’t really have any right to feel disappointed, did he?

Well, he’d gotten what he’d asked for, there was no reason for him to stay any longer. Dean nodded slowly in understanding and stood.

“Thank you for telling me. I can find my own way back.” Dean said softly, letting the angel off the hook for his previous offer, pretending he hadn’t made it at all. Dean turned and made his way quickly back into the building towards “his” room.

He certainly seemed to have a knack for pissing off angels...

* * *

Michael let Dean walk off, believing the human preferred to be alone for now. However a half hour later, for Samuel's sake, he went to him, knocking lightly first. "Good night," he said with a small smile, putting his hand over Dean's forehead, and sending him into sleep.

*

The battle of wills between Samuel and Gabriel continued through the remainder of the night. The two angels circling a long table stretching the length of the conference room. Chandeliers swung with their emotions and shouts, candles flickered. Gust of wind blew out of nowhere, sweeping their robes and hair and items in the room in their wake.

It was almost dawn. Samuel’s last chance, his last card to play. Walking to the golden haired angel, he dropped suddenly onto his knees. “Please Gabriel, please... a favor to me. I have never asked for anything.”

Gabriel stiffened, his breath catching. Samuel’s actions were at odds with his rebellion, his pride, his anger, all the accusations that he’d leveled at him all night. A strange thrill ran through him upon feeling Samuel’s breath on his thigh. “I will assign Michael to watch over him.” That was as far as he was willing to go.

“No. Let me be there, one last time Gabriel. Let me see this through. Cain is _my_ nemeses, you know that.” He thought it best to make it about Cain and not Dean, though the archangel would see the truth. “Gabriel... you do this for me, and I won’t appeal. Whatever your judgment, I will accept it. Yours to do with as you will.”

From Samuel’s point of view, he wasn’t giving up much. He was already doomed. All that an appeal might do is reduce any sentence Gabriel imposed. Either way, he would lose his boy, he would lose Dean, and all punishments paled in comparison to that one.

“I could banish you to hell.”

“Yes,” Samuel answered meekly. He could fall from grace, all the way to hell. It wasn’t an unusual price for loving a human, but it was usually reserved for a second offense if the angel’s record was otherwise as pristine as his.

Gabriel’s eyes locked with Samuel's. “A thousand years on your knees, I could make that order.” The instant Samuel raised his chin, bringing himself closer to Gabriel, the archangel’s eyes started to blaze with a new heat.

“Anything. All I want is to be there, to participate. Afterwards, do what you will. Until then, I am free.”

“Get up.” When Samuel did, Gabriel kissed him, knowing full well he hadn’t received even a half hearted response from Sam, but not expecting it under the circumstances. “You will walk away from that human when I say,” he said in clipped tones.

The doors to the room flew open.

Samuel nodded, and walked out of the room.

*

His first stop was to meet with Michael. He made arrangements to make sure Dean always had a roof over his head and money, though he didn’t give it all to him at once. Michael was to watch over him and make sure he had enough but didn’t waste what was given to him, blow it all up in one go. Samuel knew Dean hadn’t grown up learning how to make funds last, and he was also volatile. What was about to happen could send him careening off the edge and he didn’t want his ward spending his money on liquor and other things that would lead him down the very path Samuel had rescued him from.

“Thank you Michael.” The two angels hugged, for a long time, giving each other comfort. No words were exchanged about what had happened, they were unnecessary.

Dressed in full warrior gear, Samuel walked into Dean’s room. Finding his ward wasn’t there, he headed straight for his bedroom, where he found Dean asleep inside his bed, his pillow clutched in his hands.

He sat down next to him, looking up and saying a prayer for his ward, his lover, before putting his hand on his shoulder and shaking him lightly. “Dean, wake up. Wake up,” he said again, this time kissing him lightly on the temple.

* * *

Dean had been lying awake in Sam’s bed, holding Samuel’s pillow to him, breathing in his lover’s scent, and trying not to cry when Michael had come. He honestly hadn’t expected the other angel to, considering everything. Dean said nothing, and neither did the angel other than to tell him ‘good night’. The young man barely gave a nod in response, but he was grateful for the oblivion that the light touch to his forehead brought. He slept so deeply that he didn’t even dream, at least until the gentle shaking roused him.

The young man surfaced slowly, blinking the heavy sleep from his eyes. His thoughts so sluggish at first he thought he might actually be dreaming. But the warm weight on his shoulder was too real, the soft voice in his ear too cherished, and light brush of gentle lips to his temple too familiar. Please, let it not be a dream…

“Sam!” The angel’s name when Dean’s eyes focused on his lover was half a gasp and half a choked sob. The young man didn’t hesitate then throwing his arms around the solid real weight of his lover rather than the flimsy pillow and burying his face against the angel’s neck. He clutched at the angel so tight it was probably uncomfortable but he couldn’t make himself let go. He wouldn’t. Though after a time he forced himself to whisper, “What happened?”

Dean dreaded the answer at the same time needing to know. 

* * *

Samuel's arms closed around Dean, holding him tight against his chest, like he’d never let him go. He remembered so many times in their early days, before they’d even had a relationship, holding him, like precious cargo, soothing his fears and his nightmares. “You’ve come so far,” he whispered against Dean’s hair, mentally showing him images of himself when he’d first come out of the asylum. “So many little steps, and look at you now. Big bad hunter,” he said, almost choking on a laugh. It was ironic that Sam was glad now, that Dean had trained to protect himself.

Moving his hand to Dean’s cheek, he kissed him hard but quick, then spoke against his ear. “I’ll be there with you today. Remember your promise to me. You’re going to live to be an old man, for me.” He refused to allow tears to come into his eyes, not now.

He knew Dean was waiting for an answer. He gave him as little of it as he could. “You have to get up. Get dressed, eat. We’ll position you, and I will be there, both in body and in your mind.” He took a deep breath. “After we defeat Cain, we come back here. Gabriel will pass his judgment then. But don’t think of that now. Please, I _need_ you to take care of yourself.

* * *

The memories Sam showed him were both painful and in a way comforting, if only because so many of his earlier memories with Samuel were both painful and joyful. It was a reminder of all he had gained since Samuel had come for him in the exact moment Dean had given up, giving him something to live for. It was also a reminder of all he had to lose…

The brief kiss was hard, and desperate, and Dean fought for it to linger. He didn’t want to let Sam go, for any reason. Yes, he had ‘promised’… But Dean wasn’t sure if he could keep that promise, even if he lived through today.

The simple fact was that he did not want to live without Samuel. Maybe he _could_. Maybe he could ‘survive’. Just as he had survived without Sam on the streets before… but that didn’t mean he wanted to.

Dean wasn’t about to tell Samuel that however. He wouldn’t even let the angel pick it up in his thoughts. Samuel had enough to worry about. The young man let out a harsh sounding laugh when Sam suggested he actually _eat_ something. As though he could choke anything down that his stomach wouldn’t immediately reject.

“I’m not hungry.” Dean said softly, holding onto Sam a little tighter. Besides, he’d rather not waste time eating when he could be using it to hold his lover instead. At the mention of Gabriel passing his “judgment” Dean felt his anger flare, though he honestly wasn’t sure if he was more angry at the bastard angel or himself.

“He knew…” the young man whispered against the angel’s throat. “I talked to Michael. Gabriel knew he’d find us together, at least hoped he would, that’s why he came… I’m sorry, Samuel…” 

* * *

“You’re always hungry, you just don’t know it,” Samuel laughed. He knew Dean meant it, but watching his lover eat, both his mannerisms and the quantities he could put away, had always been a great source of entertainment and joy for him. At the mention of the upcoming judgment, he felt Dean’s hold tighten, and merely closed his eyes. That was something neither of them had the power to change.

Dean’s anger and sorrow flooded across their link as he told him about Gabriel. “I had my suspicions,” Samuel nodded, trying not to think at all about the strange light he might have imagined blazing in Gabriel’s eyes. “The fault is not yours. I should never have brought you here, you tried to tell me.” The animosity between Dean and Gabriel had always been obvious, but Samuel had been blind to how far Gabriel’s hatred, or… even now he couldn’t quite believe it… the depths of his jealousy. Even now, he’d rather believe Gabriel was intolerant of his infractions of the laws that bound angels, than to believe …

He let out a sigh. “Let me help you get ready. I want you to recite a few protective chants as well, and teach you a little know offensive one.” Cain was like no demon that Dean had ever faced. He was a challenge even to angels, to multiple angels. Anything Sam could teach him would not significantly injure Cain, but it might buy time or cause Cain to hesitate. At least that’s what Samuel told himself as he fought off panic at the thought of the danger Dean would be in. 

* * *

Dean sighed heavily and forced himself to nod. He knew he couldn’t stay here, just holding onto Samuel, for the rest of his life no matter how much he might wish to. Nothing outside of this room had stopped moving. Sooner or later the world would demand they return to it, and whatever fate it had in store for them. They couldn’t hide from it and they couldn’t run away from it.

“Alright.” The young man finally said softly, pulling himself together, because he was a hunter, damn it. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it. Cain had to be stopped. That was why he had “volunteered” for this. Risking his life by being hung out like a worm on a hook for the evil bastard. They were going to take Cain down and then… worry about everything else.

Though a small voice inside of him hoped that if he did this, and they were successful in trapping or killing Cain, that it might overshadow what he and Sam had done together. He might be able to ask for some kind of reward, and he didn’t give a damned if that completely negated any “redemption” he might receive from hell for doing this. Dean would ask for them to let him and Sam remain together.

Dean relaxed his hold on the angel and pulled away far enough to look into Samuel’s eyes, then he found himself cupping his lover’s face and leaning in again to kiss him hard and desperate. Pouring all his love for Samuel over their bond at the same time, everything he was into that single touch.

It took almost more willpower than he thought he possessed to finally end the kiss and finally let Sam go.

“I’m ready.” 

* * *

When their mouths met again, melded together, arms holding each other, minds locking together, sharing the depths of their feelings, of the joy they found in this relationship, of their love, the rest of the world fell away. Gabriel be damned. Rules be damned. Nothing could quash their love. Nothing could have stopped it from taking hold, not once they’d met. And tearing them apart would change nothing. Nothing that was between them.

When Dean ended the kiss, Samuel could not bring himself to release Dean for another minute. His eyes burned with his love for his ward and for one crazy moment, he was tempted to take him and run. To break his promise to Gabriel. To betray everything he was, his fellow angels… and even _Him_. And then Dean’s proclamation of readiness, brought him back to his senses, and confirmed that his ward had indeed, grown strong. He nodded, and stood up, waited a moment, and followed Dean to the other room.


	14. Chapter 14

  
Australia.    


  
It was on other side of the fucking planet. About as far away as they could have brought him from home before they started circling around the other side of the globe, but then again, that was the idea. The "safe" house was in the middle of nowhere. Isolated. Far away from any innocent civilians that might get caught in the crossfire. Dean had insisted upon that. It was warded and shielded and protected in a near infinite number of ways, sure to keep him hidden from Cain or any number of demons that might be looking for him. It was about as safe as he could be while still on the planet.

It had to look real, after all. It had to look like they were trying to hide him from Cain.

Dean had a headache from trying to keep the things he was "supposed" to be thinking to the forefront of his mind and trying to block everything else. It was pretty much a given that Cain could probably read his mind since he could invade Dean's dreams. He had to make sure that the bastard only got to read what he was supposed to. That the angels were trying to hide him away quietly, where he would be safe and at their disposal in case he was needed to "see" what they couldn't. In the middle of nowhere, under the guard of only a few angels, on his way to a safe house that would take an equivalent of a nuclear demonic explosion to get to him.

But he hadn't gotten there yet... a perfect opportunity if Cain chose to get to him. Probably the only opportunity he would have. Too good to pass up.

He'd spent more than an hour with Sam and Michael making sure that everything Cain needed to know was there for him to see and everything else was hidden. Samuel wasn't the best judge of that if only because Dean had too much experience blocking things from Sam. Blocking them from other angels, fallen angels, demons, whatever, that was a different matter.

When they were finally satisfied that he was ready Dean hugged Sam tightly one last time, not giving a flying fuck really who was watching. Whispering one last time how much he loved him. He wanted to kiss Sam, but he didn't want to make things worse for the angel, after, and there would be an after. He promised Sam that. He was going to live through this.

Though as Dean landed with his angel "guards" not far away from the safe house, he couldn't help but feel naked and exposed. He was only wearing his Kevlar vest underneath his shirt and jacket. He didn't have any weapons because none of them would have worked on Cain anyway and he didn't need anything weighing him down when it was time for him to get the hell out of the line of fire. That didn't mean he didn't feel vulnerable as hell without them, even with three fierce looking warrior angels flanking him as they made their way to the safe house.

Sam was there, Dean reminded himself. Samuel would never let anything happen to him, even if Dean doubted his guards a little despite Michael's reassurances last night. He'd seen the way they looked at him, after all. Dean had to resist the urge to reach out to Samuel over their bond for reassurance. He couldn't do anything to give away the other angels waiting to spring the trap. Once the bait was in place...

* * *

Before they’d headed off on their mission, Dean had made his final act of rebellion, throwing his arms around him and hugging him tight. Samuel was aware of the heavy stares, even if his ward was not. However, his own arms tightened around Dean, and he proclaimed his love again, and asked him one more time to ‘live for me.’ He meant through not only this attempt to trap Cain, but also what would come after, but he didn’t tell him that. His ward… his lover had enough on his mind. Flashing him a mental image of kissing him, he pulled away and slapped him on the back.

* * *

Once they reached the continent island, Samuel pushed everything out of his mind and heart… all emotion, all worry, all doubt. He was all angel now, hard, determined, single minded… every semblance of humanity was gone from his countenance. He fell in, next to Michael, because he trusted him, and next to Gabriel, because he had to. Bowing his head for a few moments, as did the other angels in teams of three, strategically located and shrouded from view, he prayed for their success and for the survival of the human, Dean Winchester.

Then they shadowed Dean and the two angels taking him to the safe house. Samuel flooded their link with warmth, making sure Dean knew he was there. They’d agreed he would leave the link open so that if Cain’s probing became too invasive, Sam could implant false thoughts… assisting Dean in being convincing about what was taking place.

He felt Gabriel’s stare, and refused to look at him. The angel could not know what communications were taking place between himself and Dean, but his imagination might be on overdrive. At this point, he didn’t care. He was focused solely on Dean… that was all that mattered.

* * *

The warmth that flooded over their link from Samuel was more than welcome to Dean, helping distracting from the pounding headache he was having that only seemed to grow worse with every step he took. They were almost to the safe house. Still nothing. They had counted on not giving Cain enough time to really assess the situation. Being forced to move quickly enough that he might become careless. If he reached the safe house before anything happened the whole plan was pretty much a bust. If Cain didn’t come for him, didn’t want him, it would all be for nothing...

They could have just stayed at home, having never gone to Gabriel’s in the first place. They never would have been caught. He could be at home, right now, wrapped up in Samuel’s arms, not about to lose him forever...

Dean knew he shouldn’t be thinking about those things but he couldn’t really help himself. This mission had become more than just the “right” thing to do for him. It had become personal. It _had_ to work. It might be the only leverage he had...

Dean suddenly stopped walking. It wasn’t a conscious decision on his part, he just stopped... The angels turned to look at him. Impatience or annoyance flashing across one of their faces, the other simply looked curious and watchful of their surroundings.

He tried to shake his head, it was nothing, he tried to start walking again, and he couldn’t. He _couldn’t_. He was trying to move but his body felt paralyzed. He couldn’t even open his mouth to speak, to tell them something was wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have been trying to ignore the headache he’d been feeling because now that he focused on it he felt more than just pain. He felt cold... a slow creeping cold like ice flowing through all the nerves of his body, freezing him in place.

_He’s here!_ Dean barely managed to get to Samuel before he was silenced in that way too. Dean couldn’t even warn the angel’s guarding him when he saw their death approaching from behind them, seemingly out of nowhere.

Cain...

* * *

The words in Samuel's mind were faint, but crystal clear. He looked out, through Dean’s eyes, and saw nothing. The angels with him appeared to be unaware, or were they doing a great job of acting? Then he saw one of them was frowning and ordering Dean to keep moving. That was when he sensed Dean’s paralysis... like something had taken his body over.

“Cain...” the word was like the crack of a whip. “Tell the others, they don’t know.” Instead of communicating with the guarding angels, he more firmly entrenched his mind inside Dean’s, resisting the urge to reassure him now when Cain might sense it.

“They see nothing,” Michael whispered harshly, searching the horizon. “They say Dean is acting strange. Maybe we should...”

“Everyone will hold their positions,” Gabriel hissed. “Until we see Cain, no one is to move.”

Sorting through the fear and anger flooding Dean, Sam found new emotions... cold as ice and steel, dark as taint. His head jerked up. “Cain is trying to steal his body. We must go, now.”

Without waiting for Gabriel’s agreement, Samuel spread his wings wide and shot through the sky.

Michael and Gabriel followed, one of them bringing the others up to speed, the other giving orders as to what they should look for. Gabriel opined Samuel was wrong because it made no sense that Cain would discard his own strong body for the hunter’s weak one. Of course the body he took over would automatically be infused with strength, but it would take decades for it to get as strong as his original shell.

One of the angels with Dean started to push him toward the safe house, while the other looked into his eyes, searching or signs of any darkness.

Samuel reinforced the thoughts that they’d agreed would be at the forefront of Dean’s mind. There was no room for error, Cain had to believe... had to.

More of Dean’s thoughts filtered into Samuel’s mind. He’d misinterpreted, made a mistake...”Behind... he says they’re behind them.”

Miles away, the ground behind the angels and Dean erupted into flames traveling with the speed and height of a large tidal wave toward them.

* * *

When one of the angels grabbed his arm, trying to pull him towards the safe house, Dean felt himself smile. But even such a simple action felt foreign and wrong on his face, because the smile was cold, twisted, and evil. He felt more of himself slipping away by the instant in the freezing bitter cold that was filling him. He tried to resist it, to throw the foreign presence out of his mind like, but there was nothing he could do. It was like trying to stop an avalanche with nothing but his bare hands.

He had thought that Cain would want him dead. He never would have thought that Cain would simply want _him_.

Dean jerked his arm out of the angel's grip, he felt it wrench painfully in the process but he couldn't even voice that pain. Then Dean saw the wall of flames coming right towards them. Something he couldn't have run away from even if he was able to now, which he wasn't.

Instead he raised his hands, holding them outwards as he felt something building inside of him. Something burning hot and swelling exponentially.

He'd felt it before. Though each time had only been briefly and he hadn't been consciously doing it at the time. When he'd made the door shut without touching it. When he'd broken the mirror in his room by only looking at it.

This was a thousand times more powerful however, Dean wasn't controlling it, Cain was. And when the power exploded from him it _was_ like a bomb going off. It knocked his angel guards away from him like they were nothing but annoying flies. The shockwave expanded, and Dean watched in horrifying amazement as the safe house, even with all its protections, began to implode on itself like a crumbling house of cards.

Dean laughed, standing unflinching as the wall of fire came towards him. Not him, Cain, and he understood. Demonic power couldn't do that, but somehow he did. Just like somehow he could see what the angels could not see. He wasn't either, demonic or angelic. That made him the perfect weapon to use against either side.

* * *

The mental shouts of the angels guarding Dean were suddenly snuffed out. The dead silence sent fear spiraling through the entire contingency of angels. Had Cain killed two more of their brethern?

From above, Samuel saw the fire eating up the ground, roaring over the crumbling safe house and chasing towards Dean. "Michael, Gabriel... fire," he shouted, circling to get to his lover. The darkness inside Dean was growing, pushing everything else out a little at a time. _Fight... fight Dean, I'll be right there._ Samuel tried to compartmentalize his message to that part of Dean's mind that was still Dean's.

Michael and two others swooped down in front of the fires, surprised that they were as hot as the ones that burned in hell. Arms stretched up, they called upon every last vestige of their abilities, God given powers, to stop the fire. It wouldn't go out, nor would it slow, but it slammed against the force field they raise, climbing up skyward just like a tidal wave. Michael mentally called for help, but Gabriel countermanded the request. All angels were to attack Cain... whether he was in his own body or the humans.

Gabriel's last order was transmitted to all but Samuel.

Dropping down next to Dean, Sam saw the angels on the ground. He couldn't tell if they were alive, and could not check. Dean's eyes... no, not Dean's... Cain's, dark and cold, stared at him.

Sam's eyes went dark, the winds kicking up around them, blowing the hot air from the fire around. "Get out of him, you have one chance... or you will go to hell," he said pointing. He would have started a modified exorcism but a voluntary exit would be better for Dean, and Sam was working hard inside Dean's mind, trying to free him from Cain from the inside.

* * *

Fight… He was trying. Dean struggled against the crushing cold darkness the felt like it was slowly consuming him from the inside out. He tried to throw Cain out of his mind the same way he had so easily thrown Samuel out more than once, but it wasn’t working. The cold nearly dug long bloody claws into him, tearing into him, holding on, and Dean screamed in pain inside his head. Still he tried to fight, with Samuel’s help, but for every inch the darkness of Cain gained inside of him Dean felt himself growing weaker. This wasn’t just a possession. If Cain succeeded there would be nothing left of him when it was over. His soul crushed to dust and expelled. Dean didn’t know if he’d die or if he’d simply cease to exist.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Cain watched in amusement as the angels did their best to divert the tidal wave of hellfire, but they wouldn’t be able to hold back the flames for long. However his interest faded quickly when he felt the presence of another angel land close to him. One both he, and this body, knew very well. He turned to face Samuel, a cold cruel smile pulling at his lips.

“Hello again, Samuel.” Cain said, almost conversationally. As though he took no notice at all of the heat from the flames or the angel’s fury, in fact, he chuckled softly at Samuel’s words. Shaking his head.

“Now really, who are you trying to fool? We both know you won’t do that. For one, Hell will not hold me for long…” Cain took a few slow steps towards Samuel, lowering his borrowed voice to an almost sultry tone. “Two, you know I can simply drag your precious _lover’s_ soul right to hell with me.”

Cain chuckled again.

“Really Samuel, I’m surprised. You, of all, falling for a human? Risking damnation yourself? All for a fine piece of ass?” Cain felt Dean’s shocked horror in his mind and he chuckled again, running a hand slowly down his own chest. “Oh? You didn’t tell him, did you? That you would go to hell for loving him… well, I can’t really blame you. After all, such a pretty package… and so much power. What an interesting find you have made, Samuel.”

Cain’s amused smile slipped of Dean’s face abruptly.

“Did you really think you could hide him from me?”

* * *

  
_Don't listen to his words... focus on expelling him. Listen to me now, Dean. Expel him._ Samuel started to say the words of the ritual he'd taught Dean, until Dean joined in, then he allowed him to continue that battle alone as he faced Cain.

"And I can bring his soul back from hell, so don't... threaten... me." He had done it before, he would do it again. The blistering heat of hell wouldn't stop him from bringing Dean back, what he was more concerned with was that his body had to remain intact and his soul should not be dislodged.

"Hide? I'm not hiding Cain, you're the one hiding inside that human. Where is your body? They're searching for it... will find it. You cannot completely sever your connection with it quickly enough and the ritual of destruction will reach your soul... consume you... destroy you." The ritual wasn't used often, it required a sacrifice... an angel. Samuel had already mentally volunteered, but he knew others had as well.

Now he had to make sure Cain in fact didn't begin to sever his connection. He'd taken three long steps toward Cain, hand outstretched as he sent waves of controlled energy toward him, aware that if Cain suddenly withdrew, he might hurt Dean's suddenly unprotected body, when Gabriel landed close by. _Gabriel if you push... NO!_

Samuel catapulted himself in front of the deadly bluish white bolts of jagged lightning springing from Gabriel's hands, zig zagging toward Dean. The fully unleashed power of the archangel struck him in the center of his body, and he bowed back, screaming in pain... electricity leaving from his mouth and making him jerk.

* * *

Dean’s mind was still reeling with Cain’s revelation’s. Was it true? Was Samuel really going to be punished by being sent to hell just because he loved him? Of course Cain could be lying. Demons lied. Unless the truth caused more pain… The young man felt himself slipping even further, fear for his lover overwhelming him.

This was all his fault… all his fault… Samuel would be condemned to hell instead of him… oh god, why didn’t Sam tell him? How could he have not told him? Dean never would have come back. He never would have pushed and pushed… he never would have… he would have sent himself back to hell long ago.

He heard Samuel’s order to recite the rituals that Sam had taught him earlier. Dean didn’t know how it was supposed to do any good. He wasn’t strong enough to fight Cain. Not one on one when the demon had already taken over so much of him. He started repeating Samuel’s words even though he knew it was futile. He wasn’t going to win this. Samuel should just expel Cain, let the demon drag him to hell with him, maybe Gabriel would be satisfied then. Maybe he would forgive Samuel and he wouldn’t punish him…

Cain’s expression never faltered, and he only chuckled again at Sam’s threats. He knew the angel was bluffing. As was evidenced by Samuel’s pathetically weak attack which Cain brushed aside easily.  
As long as he was within this vessel Samuel would not dare let any harm come to it and he could damage the human’s fragile soul permanently with very little effort.

If they tried to destroy him he could easily destroy the human as well, rip his body into a thousand pieces and shred his soul till it was unrecognizable. The things he could do to the boy in hell before Sam found him… it an amusing enough thought to almost let Samuel try it. To let him search for a hundred years in hell for the boy he loved, only to find him a shell, or even a demon by the time Cain got through with him. But he had far bigger plans, and this human’s strange powers would surely aid him well.

Still, the other angels did not seem to be quite concerned over the life or sanity of the human boy, as he found out seconds later when Gabriel released his powers against him. Samuel of course, the self sacrificing fool, putting himself between the attack and his beloved. Samuel’s scream of pain echoing in his mind by the boy. Soul pain, it was delicious.

Seeing Samuel fall to the energy blast, protecting him from Gabriel, ignited a rage inside of Dean like a white hot nova. He redoubled his struggles against the demon, drawing on every ounce of power he had inside of him, wrenching control of it away from Cain much to the demon’s surprise.

Cain growled in anger, preparing his power to crush the foolish boy but Samuel had been right about one thing. The other angels were closing in not only on his old body but more were coming for Dean as well. They might just succeed in destroying the boy and he couldn’t allow that. He wanted Dean for himself and he would have him. So, for now, he began to withdraw from the human’s mind. Though not before he whispered darkly, _”When you see what they’ll have in store for him, you will be begging for my power to save him.”_

And then Cain was gone and Dean collapsed on the ground, panting and shaking violently as the heat of the flames around him that suddenly died away as well. He tried to crawl to Samuel’s side.

“Samuel…”

* * *

Everything happened at once then. Several angles landed close by, all of them and Gabriel walking towards Dean, arms outstretched and ready to destroy him. Samuel lifted his head, stretched his arm toward his lover, sending out a weak but desperate mental call to the angels to stop, to know that Cain was gone... that it was Dean, pure Dean crawling toward him. The advancing angels' fingertips sparked with electricity.

Michael descended like a boulder falling from the skies, the earth shaking as he rolled on the ground covering Dean's body with his own. He had promises to keep. Smoke swept over them, then was cleared by a thousand winds pushing it away. By then, order was restored, and the angels started to leave, their mission in shambles.

Rolling off Dean, Michael stood guard over him as Samuel recovered, and reached him. Unable to think past the fact Dean was alive, Samuel pulled him into his arms, his mouth seeking Dean's, his tongue pushing inside the velvety heat of his mouth as he sought proof of his survival, proof that his love had made it, had cast Cain out. _I think I died a thousand deaths today. Don't ever volunteer for anything like this again, Dean, not ever. Not if you love me._

Already he was planning to demand that not only Michael keep his promise to look in on Dean, but to take him as his ward.

"Stop that," Gabriel snarled, pointing at them. "Sacrilegious... stop it."

* * *

Dean’s eyes didn’t focus on anyone or anything but Samuel even as the advancing angels, his “protectors”, were now coming to kill him. He didn’t care. All he cared about right now was reaching Samuel. Touching him. Reassuring to himself that the angel was all right. Though he honestly wasn’t sure if he would have tried to stop them from killing him even if he did care.

Cain’s literally damning words were still echoing in his head long after the bastard was gone. The worst part was that he was right. It was all Dean’s fault. What they were going to do to Sam… because of him… and he _would_ do anything to spare Samuel that fate. Anything…

He couldn’t help but wonder again if he gave Gabriel the pleasure of killing him then the other angel would go easier on Samuel. He was sure Gabriel would much rather see him in hell than Samuel. To have Samuel all to himself again… not that Samuel would ever give him what he wanted. That thought made him smile a little even as his insides felt shredded by the pain of knowing he’d never see Samuel again. Dean would still accept that fate however, any fate, as long as it meant Samuel would go free…

He was prepared to die. He was prepared to go to hell. Right then. Far more prepared than he had been a year ago when Samuel had brought him back. The death he was ready for however never happened.

The feeling of the ground literally shaking beneath him and that of a body suddenly protecting him startled Dean badly. Even so he had enough of his senses intact to instinctively struggle against the solid mass of muscle draped over him. Desperate to free himself, but not to protect himself but to reach Samuel. To touch him one last time… please…

His pleas and struggles to be let go went unheeded however, at least at first. When he finally was allowed up, coughing a little on the black smoke from the extinguished fires wafting around the area, he realized he was no longer being targeted by the other angels. They must have realized that Cain was gone. Michael… Michael had protected him with his own body. They could have killed him… but instead it had been enough to make the other angels hesitate.

But suddenly Samuel was there, pulling him up off the ground and into his arms and Dean didn’t care about anything else. Dean wrapped his arms around Samuel so tightly they ached with the strain but he didn’t give a fuck. He returned his lover’s hard and desperate kiss, completely uncaring of their audience and he wasn’t planning on letting the angel up for breath anytime soon.

At least he hadn’t been until he heard Gabriel’s snarled words and something inside of Dean snapped. Dean broke their kiss with a growl.

“You son of a bitch!” He yelled and he was on his feet within seconds, advancing on Gabriel just like the angel had him not minutes ago. Just as much hate burning in his eyes for the angel as Gabriel had for him. He drew his fist back, at the same time digging into the power that Cain had seemed to draw forth inside of him so easily. Aiming everything he could into the point where his fist connected with Gabriel’s jaw.

It fucking hurt. Dean felt a couple of his knuckles break from the impact but the pain was nothing compared to the satisfaction of seeing Gabriel landing on his ass a good twenty feet away from him from the punch. He hoped he broke the fuckers jaw!

“You could have killed him!” 

* * *

"Dean!" There was no way Sam could have anticipated this, none. Not even his hothead lover would be crazy enough to go after an archangle, or so he'd thought. _Dammit, no!_ He was right behind him, but too late to stop him.

Gabriel stared coolly at Dean, wanting him to attack. He'd break his fist, and then Gabriel would break Dean, and he would be in his right. He didn't defend himself, wanting the first strike to come from the human. The slight smile was wiped off Gabriel's face when Dean struck him with inhuman power, propelling him backwards on his ass.

He was testing his jaw, powering up, trying to put it together, how had Dean done that. By the time he looked up and raised his own arm, Samuel was between himself and Dean, as was Michael. Other angels were around him, no one offering help but staring at him, waiting for answers.

Sam had Dean's hand in both of his, and was mentally chiding him for putting his life at risk. Again. Because he'd been in Dean's mind when Cain had control over him, he'd seen how Cain accessed certain latent powers in Dean, so he knew how it was that Gabriel was sitting on his ass. The mysteries of the power would be explored, and he'd felt no evil taint to the powers.

Pushing off the ground, Gabriel approached.

Samuel turned, moving protectively in front of Dean. "We have a deal, Gabriel," he reminded him, speaking softly, thought there was nothing soft about his stance.

"Him all over you is not part of that deal. This is conduct unbecoming of an angel and you know it," the archangel ground out, his eyes burning with anger. "I will pass judgment immediately on our return." He turned his head. "Michael, you will take Dean now."

"A moment, give me a moment," Samuel asked.

"Time just ran out. Michael, now."

Sam squeezed Dean's hand, no longer trying to aid with the healing, but clinging to their last touch. _Don't fight, please don't Dean. Please go with Michael."_ Closing his eyes for a moment, Sam gave him an image, a last kiss, and then shot up into the air before Dean could change his mind and start a battle neither of them could win.

Michael grasped Dean's arms, both of them behind his back, in a gentle but unrelenting hold. One by one, the other angels left, some throwing resentful looks at Dean, others looks of pity or admiration, though the latter were few.

* * *

Of course Dean had heard Sam’s warnings, both aloud and inside of his head, but the young man did not heed any of them. He wasn’t going to be afraid of Gabriel, god damn it! If the other angel decided to strike him down, fine! It would only show everyone around them what this was really about.

Gabriel’s hatred and his jealousy that Sam was Dean’s not his.

Dean would have really loved to lay into Gabriel with this new found power but he didn’t get the chance to. Sam was there, once more placing himself between him and the other angel and Dean wasn’t going to risk his lover getting hurt, or possibly even killed, trying to protect him from Gabriel.

_He deserved it._ Was all Dean replied to Sam admonishment about putting himself in danger again. Dean didn’t care. He didn’t care about the pain in his hand that Sam was trying to heal. His whole world was being torn down, was being ripped away by Gabriel, and the heartless bastard wouldn’t even let them have a moment…

Gabriel’s comment regarding “conduct unbecoming of an angel” had white hot rage flashing through Dean again and he nearly pushed past Samuel to go at Gabriel again. The fucking bastard! He and Sam _loved_ each other! Gabriel was only doing this out of _hate_ , so which was more “unbecoming”? He’d show that prick unbecoming…

Dean’s anger changed to horror however when Gabriel spoke of judgment and Dean realized what was happening. No…

“Sam, no…” The young man tried to beg. He couldn’t just let Sam go. He couldn’t… but there was nothing he could do. He tried to hold onto Samuel, but he couldn’t. His lover was literally ripped from his fingers and it was worse because Samuel himself had done it, no one else. “NO! Samuel!”

Despite Samuel’s words not to fight, that didn’t stop Dean. It didn’t stop the young man from struggling against Michael, as though there was even a chance he could go after them, which there wasn’t. It didn’t stop him from screaming after Sam, begging him to come back, not to leave him. He didn’t give a damn what the other angels thought of him. He didn’t care if they thought he was pathetic, or a corrupted hell spawn that deserved this, or if they pitied him. None of them understood. None… Blinded by his own tears Dean finally crumbled to the ground, sobbing brokenly. 

* * *

Michael released him when there was no chance that Dean could go after either Sam or Gabriel. He stood by as Dean cried, sobbing like a broken man. He'd seen a lot of heartache in his life, tragedies, families and town torn apart, decimated, blood running a foot deep, and yet he was moved by this. Eventually, he picked Dean up, holding him in his arms and soothing him, the way angels did to humans. He couldn't take all of the pain away like this, but he could ease it, could calm him.

When Dean pulled away, Michael reached out and touched his cheek. "You were born under a tragic star. Call it fate. Call it what you want. In my heart, I know you don't deserve any of this." His hand slipped off Dean. "Samuel asked me to take you on as my ward. I agreed. Let's go to your house, collect some things, and then I'll take you to Budapest. I think you'll like it there, and it will be a change of scenery. There are lots of demons to be hunted," he threw in, "hunters are needed."

"Come," he put an arm out. "I'll keep you safe."

* * *

Dean wondered briefly if a human could actually die of dehydration from shedding so many tears. He wondered if emotional pain could kill just as easily as a real knife wound to the heart. It was certainly more painful. So much more painful. Worse than he imagined losing a limb would feel like. It felt worse than dying... he knew that from experience all too well...

At first he simply didn’t have the strength or will to fight the angel’s arms around him or Michael’s attempts to offer him comfort. For what it was worth... as though anything could ease the pain he was feeling. Yet Dean remembered how Samuel had done the same for him so many times in the beginning. When he’d first come to live with the angel. All the nights he’d crawled from his own bed into Sam’s and how the angel would embrace him while he sobbed from nightmares of his former life. Samuel’s touch so soothing, so comforting, so loving...

Of course Michael’s efforts, as genuine as they were, were pale in comparison, but familiar enough that Dean found himself clinging to the other angel tightly until he’d cried himself out. Until he felt so utterly... empty... that even the pain seemed less somehow. Enough that he finally managed at least to force himself to release Michael and stand on his own.

Michael’s pity, though genuine, was not what Dean wanted or needed however. The angel’s offer to take him “home” to gather his things so the angel could take him away, as far away from the life he had built with Samuel as he possibly could, to keep him “safe”... it only brought forth a small humorless laugh from Dean’s lips. Did he really think he could go anywhere in the entire world and just forget about Sam? Did he really think Dean cared about hunting right now? About being “safe”?

He slowly shook his head and stepped back from Michael’s offered hand.

“No.” Dean finally whispered hoarsely. “I’ll find my own way.” 

* * *

MIchael tried. He did his best, both for Samuel's sake, and because he truly cared, but nothing he said got through to the wounded young man. He refused his protection, refused to become his ward, and even refused to stay with Michael for just a few days until Samuel's fate became known. Just when Michael thought that Dean would continue his refusal to at least allow Michael to get him home, Dean capitulated. Before he could change his mind, Michael picked Dean up in his arms, afraid to allow him to ride behind him, afraid Dean might let go. His history was fresh in Michael's mind, although he, like Samuel, knew this man had come a long way.

*

Once he brought Dean home, Michael was at a loss as to how to help him. Every offer of assistance that he gave was refused. Eventually, he had no choice but to leave him. Putting a hand on Dean's shoulder, he promised to check back in a few days and told him to be sure to eat and not to let himself go, that Samuel would expect more of him. When he left, he was sure his words fell on deaf ears,

* * *

Dean really had to hand it to Michael. The angel certainly behaved as if he actually cared what happened to him. Hell, maybe he even did. Dean didn’t know. Though he had a feeling the angel had only been so persistent because Samuel had probably asked him to. He knew Michael loved Samuel, was a good friend. It made Dean feel even guiltier for having accused Michael as he had before… well, it would have if Dean could have felt anything other than the crushing despair of Samuel’s loss in his heart.

He’d finally agreed to let the angel take him “home”. If only because Dean knew he had no way to get there on his own. Once they arrived back at Samuel’s apartment though, Dean again refused Michael’s offers to “help”. He didn’t want to stay with the angel. He didn’t want the angel to stay with him. He wanted to be alone.

As soon as he was Dean felt himself crumbling again, tears pouring from his already aching eyes as he sobbed right there on the floor in the living room. He stayed there all day and through most of the night, alternating between sobbing uncontrollably and just lying there listlessly. He knew he was pathetic but he didn’t care.

He finally forced himself to move when he felt like his bladder was about to explode and went to the bathroom. Of course walking in there every image of himself and Sam began to flash before his eyes. From the first time Dean had explored his new home, to that night with the bubble incident, getting into the shower with Sam and questioning him about sex, and of course all the times they’d made love in here. Dean finished his business as quickly as he could, but wasn’t surprised that his eyes were wet again as he walked out of the bathroom. Dean wondered if it was possible for a person to cry themselves to death.

Dean finally ended up in his room… the room he hadn’t used for nearly a year except to store his clothes and make it look to anyone else that he and Samuel were not sleeping together every night. He only came in here because he didn’t think he could handle right now going into Samuel’s room. Even in here, though Samuel didn’t come in often except to put away laundry or change the sheets (even though Dean wasn’t using them) it still smelled faintly of Sam in here.

As Dean laid down on the bed, staring at the shifting patterns of light and shadow on the walls, he wondered if any of the angels were still watching him. He was still in “danger” after all, wasn’t he? This would be a perfect time for Cain to come after him again, if the demon still wanted him. To be truthful, Dean didn’t really give a damn if Cain came for him again or not. He didn’t give a damned if the angels were still watching him or if they’d decided to throw him to the wolves. He didn’t care… they’d taken away the only thing he cared for, the only one who’d ever cared for him… they could all go to hell, as far as he was concerned. 

* * *

Samuel stood at the center of the room looking up at the raised table where Gabriel sat, flanked by three arch angels on either side of him. The gallery behind Sam was packed with angels, and standing next to him was Raphael. Looking at the angel hurt. No he didn't look like Dean but all those comparisons... they just stuck in Sam's head.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Are you ready to hear your judgment."

Samuel was dressed in white, his wings visible. Many had already commented on the fact that his wings were as white as snow, hardly any red bleeding into the feathers. Work, good deeds would wash away evidence of sins and infractions, but it took time and in light of his having been caught fornicating only the night before, it was hard to fathom the reason for their purity. "I am," he said clearly.

Gabriel read the list of charges, then put the paper down. "Samuel, angel of the Lord, you are sentence to one hundred years solitary imprisonment. With great regret, I will oversee your prayers and punishment as required.. The location will be classified."

Raphael spoke up. "On behalf of Samuel, I request clarification. What are the parameters of the punishment, why is the location secret, and... in light of the state of Samuel's wings which indicates a purity of heart, I ask for clemency. Samuel's reputation is--"

"One moment. Is Raphael speaking on your behalf?" Gabriel's eyes burned like coals as he reminded Sam of their deal.

There was a long silence. "No. I accept the punishment."

There were some gasps.

"In that case, I will lodge and appeal..."

Putting his hand out, Samuel stopped Raphael. "I waive all appeals."

"Then, as of this moment, you are under my custody. Please escort Samuel to the green room."

As he walked out, Samuel felt other angels touch him and murmur words of comfort. He didn't care about anything at the moment, just that his golden haired boy would be alright. Michael's absence reassured him that his friend was taking care of Dean. He did his best to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself, but he knew Dean could reach them if he tried. That's why he didn't think too deeply on what was going to happen to him, on how he'd miss his lover, on the fact that his love would have long turned to ash by the time he walked the earth free again.

*

[One Week Later]

 

Sam stood shirtless, each of his wrists cuffed above his head, to the wall. Heavy lengths of chain were wrapped around his arms, shoulders and body, a reminder of his sins against the _Father_. It was utterly silent in this small stone tomb. He couldn't even hear the scurrying of rats feet, or anything but the sounds that he generated. One hundred years of this, of silence, of nothing to read or absorb, he could take that. He could relive every moment of his life with Dean, it would sustain him. What he wasn't sure he could take was Gabriel's visits.

The archangel who claimed to love him was slipping... mentally slipping. Sam had not seen that coming. Yes, once he'd felt lust, once he'd succumbed to it and realized its power, he'd recognized it in Gabriel. But he couldn't fathom how Gabriel's jealousy was twisting the archangel, who he'd always respected, up so much.

Three times, Gabriel had demanded that he show him ... demonstrate the fornication between himself and Dean. The demands were justified by Gabriel's claim that he needed to understand what it was he would pray with Samuel for forgiveness for. Sam had refused, and each time the temperature in the small room had risen to the temperatures found in hell.

* * *

[Three Weeks Later]

Samuel had denied Gabriel again and again and there had started to be consequences. He wished it were just the discomfort of a too heated room.

During one of the episodes Gabriel was having, Gabriel demanded that Sam swear he would block his mind from Dean. Samuel swore to do his best and kept to the letter of that promise. While he knew he wasn't capable of blocking, he could try... and did, both to spare Dean and to try to give him a chance to forget... to let go, thought deep down, he knew his lover too well to expect that to happen in less than a number of years.

He heard the pacing from behind him, heard Gabriel's mutterings and bowed his head. Please let it be over quickly.

"You think of _him_ often, don't you? I am speaking with you, Samuel, answer me."

"I think of him. Yes."

"You will stop this, at once. How can I cure you of your ... your sick need to fornicate with him?" In two strides, Gabriel was behind Sam, one arm around Sam's neck, pulling him back against his own body. "Pray for forgiveness.... confess your lust... relinquish it. Do it now."

The blast of heat filling the room had Sam jerking back from the doubly hot wall. He started to string together the words Gabriel wanted to hear... stuttering when he felt Gabriel grind his arousal against his ass. "Gabriel, you cannot--"

"Shut up... pray... I shall absolve you."

"You cannot." Almost choking at the force applied to his throat, Sam's eyes went dark. A cool draft blew but was quickly choked by the heat. He did as Gabriel ordered, gritting his teeth as he felt the angel's furtive motions motions against him, the small groans, the repeated demands that Sam show him how he fornicated. It went on and on, Sam's forhead dripping with sweat, his throat dry from speaking for hours.

"Give me this... give me this one thing, Samuel... this one thing!" Gabriel suddenly shouted, pushing the chains down Samuel's body, forcing Sam up against the wall as he fucked into him. Groans broke from the back of his throat. "Move with me... Samuel, show me..."

Sam refused to budge. His face repeatedly struck the stone and he was almost unconscious with exhaustion by the time Gabriel left him days, maybe a week afterwards, without coming to completion and blaming Sam for it.

* * *

[Three Months Later]

He'd been beater, whipped with a weapons infused with Gabriel's powers, leather that cut Samuel's flesh down to his bone. His face had been bashed beyond recognitions, his body bloodied. It was temporary, he always healed after Gabriel left him, and it was always the same reason. He refused to _fuck_ Gabriel, to show him what he shared with Dean. Samuel had lost control over his life, his destiny, but one thing he did have control over was his body... and he kept a tight rein on it, showing no signs of arousal no matter how Gabriel tried to coax him. His refusals cost him. His protests, his questions about why this sort of fornication would be allowed when his physical love of Dean which was coupled with a pure love was not, cost him. His refusals to speak, to pray with Gabriel, cost him.

Samuel's best moments were when he was completely alone and could think of Dean. Sometimes he thought he felt him in his mind, sometimes he knew he was imagining it... but it gave him some pleasure, even if he wouldn't answer... wouldn't engage... wouldn't acknowledge Dean. The second best moments were when Gabriel would give up, would beat him to a bloody pulp so that Sam would be engulfed in darkness.. blacking out was a relief.

Sam came to, his vision blurry. His moments of peace were over. Gabriel was leaning over him, making his demands.

"Show me now, it isn't a big thing I ask. You've done it often enough with that human," Gabriel spat, his eyes blazing with fury at Samuel's continued denials. Another fifteen minutes later, his blood was boiling. With a single thought, he had the chains fall off Samuel's body, an invisible force slamming the imprisoned angel onto the ground on his back, his hands and legs spread wide.

The room went freezing cold as Sam's eyes darkened, but he'd agreed to accept punishment. _Stupid rule_. He couldn't break his word, not when Dean would be in danger because of it.

"If you won't have me, I shall have you," Gabriel snarled.

Thick, spike-like nails were suddenly driven right through his hands and ankles. Samuel screamed and arched off the ground, his eyes seeking Gabriel's, pleading. But he knew now that Gabriel had gone completely mad. He refused to waste words pleading, refused to speak.

Gabriel fell on him, forced himself on Sam, kissed him brutally... imagining how the angel he'd loved for so long had betrayed him, fornicated with a human, remembering what the two fo them had looked like in that bed, when he'd caught them. Remembering the rebellion in Dean's eyes, over and over.

Hours, maybe days passed. All Samuel knew was that he was struck, and kissed, and fucked against, and that every single time Gabriel pushed his cock up against his hole, Gabriel would lose his erection. Then he'd go crazy again, beating him, accusing him of causing this... doing this to him... and it would start over... and over... and over...

_I have had enough. It would be better to suffer at the hands of hell than at the hands of grace._

 

* * *

True to his word, Michael had come back to check up on him in a few days. During that time, Dean had only gotten up from the bed a handful of times, to go to the bathroom and nothing more. He didn’t eat, because he wasn’t hungry. He didn’t drink, because he wasn’t thirsty. He didn’t sleep, because he wasn’t tired. He simply hurt too much for any of those things. Hell, even breathing hurt. Living hurt. He hurt like his soul was dying inside of him. Maybe it was.

At the angel’s insistence, more because Dean knew that Michael wouldn’t leave him alone again until he did, he drank a little water and ate a little bit of soup that the angel made for him. The effort felt like it drained what little energy he had. When the angel finally left, telling him once more to rest and take care of himself but obviously not satisfied Dean would actually do it, the young man finally fell asleep for the first time in days. Only to wake up again barely an hour later from nightmares, screaming.

But there was no one to hear him in the empty apartment. No one to comfort him, to wrap him in warm arms and surround him with gentle wings, keeping the darkness away. No one to tell him everything was going to be all right… because it never would be again…

Dean had cried until his eyes felt like they were bleeding.

*

Dean stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. He had taken a shower. More to keep him awake than any real desire to be clean. Not that he felt clean even after he was done. Not even after standing underneath the nearly scalding water for over an hour and then remaining there for another half hour or so even after the water had turned to ice.

Even though the mirror was fogged from the steam he could see the obvious difference in the reflection that stared back at him. In the past few weeks he had probably lost at least fifteen pounds. His ribs were just starting to show. His hip bones were more pronounced than before and his stomach sunken in. His face though, that was probably the most shocking. His skin was pale as a ghost and the dark circles under his eyes made him look like a corpse.

Dean wondered how long it would take before he really turned into one.

*

Bobby had come by that day. Dean had lost track what day it was. Of course he hadn’t let the older hunter into the apartment, Bobby had let himself in. The older man had taken one look at him and he swore any second the grizzled hunter was going to burst into tears.

Bobby had made him eat. A lot more than the few bites Michael had ever managed to get him to choke down at a time. Of course he’d thrown it all up not long after that, and Bobby had stayed with him in the bathroom while he heaved his guts out. After a couple of hours, Bobby had made him eat again. Not as much as the first time, but still more substantial than he’d had in weeks. At least it had stayed down the second time.

The older man had made him tell him everything that had happened. Dean couldn’t help but marvel a little at how the older man could so easily make him do what he didn’t want to do. It all spilled out of Dean much like his “lunch” had earlier and Bobby just listened. He didn’t judge, even when Dean admitted to the older man that he and Sam were together. Though from the look on Bobby’s face, it was hardly a big secret to begin with. Bobby wasn’t stupid or blind after all, the older man reminded Dean.

Exhausted, Dean had finally fallen to an uneasy sleep. When the nightmares woke him, at least Bobby was there, though Dean refused to go back to sleep again.

*

Dean didn’t know what was worse. The nightmares themselves or lying awake afterwards wondering if they were true. When he slept he dreamt of Samuel, of course. But The things he saw happening to the angel… to his lover… Just thinking about it usually made him vomit up whatever Bobby had managed to get him to eat that day.

Bobby still came, every day. The older man practically watching him like a hawk. Michael came sometimes once or twice a week. He didn’t really want either of their help, but he couldn’t make either of them leave either.

He started eating again on his own without their insistence. Just to get them off his back more than anything else. He still wasn’t sleeping more than an hour or two a night, if that. Sometimes when he was asleep he felt like he was actually there… with Samuel… and it felt like he was in hell. When he woke up, sobbing and screaming Sam’s name, there was nothing but that blank cold emptiness.

*

He couldn’t do this anymore. He simply couldn’t. Dean knew he was going to eventually end up in hell anyway. He’d never “redeemed” himself, like Sam had wanted him to. Surely being the cause of making an angel fall was a hell worthy offence all on its own, even if Dean hadn’t tried to kill himself. Why wait then? Why prolong it? He’d rather be with Samuel in hell than be alone here…

Dean pressed the sharpened knife to his wrist. It was silver. Good for killing a lot of evil things. Evil things like him.

The cuts he made were perpendicular to the faded scars already on his arms. He wasn’t so far gone not to see the irony that the two cuts together formed the shape of a cross. He almost laughed, though the sound came out like a sob instead. 

* * *

Samuel was brought out of his state of sleep by a sharp pain on the inside of his arm, and his wrist. Jerking awake, his hands still nailed to the ground, he couldn't pull his arms in front of him. Turning his head, he saw the blood... two perfect lines of red, leaking blood. "No... No.... NO _NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Don't you do this, don't you do this Dean. Don't.... Don't... if you ever loved me, even a little... Dont you do this._ Breaking his word, Sam mentally sought out Dean, screaming for him to listen. This... this hurt him more than anything Gabriel could do to him, much more.

Like dominos, after breaking one promise, he broke another. Reaching across space he gave Michael a mental image of Dean ... bleeding, and prayed to God the other angel would forgive him for violating isolation, and get to his ward. Get to him before his soul was damned once again.

* * *

Michael didn't bother to knock. Pushing the door open, he headed straight for the bathroom. Blood, so much of it, all over the bright white tile, in the channels of grout, leading away... draining from Dean. The sight of the hunter, a shadow of what he'd been, now dying in front of him hurt Michael more than it should.

A white light shone from his hands, but he quickly realized he couldn't repair the damage alone. Kneeling, he lifted Dean up into his arms, his wings unfurling as he strode out of the apartment and down the stairs, a veil of invisibility curtaining them from prying eyes.

 

* * *

 

"Mr. Winchester?"

Michael, appearing to mortals as Samuel, rose from the seat in the hospital waiting room. He'd had to prove he was kin to the boy... the man who'd been in a psych ward for most of his life. "How is..."

"He's going to be alright," the doctor told him, giving him a grim smile. "You got him here just in time. A team of psychiatrists will want to see him in the morning, I suggest you give them access," she said.

Merely thanking her, Michael headed for the room they'd told him where Dean would be taken. When he entered, he saw that Dean's arms were wrapped in bandages and he appeared to be asleep. Walking up to the bed, he stood next to it, looking down. For Samuel's sake, he placed one hand over Dean's forehead, offering him peace and warmth and comfort.

* * *

The more things changed the more they stayed the same… it was really ironic that the first time he’d ever heard Samuel’s voice inside of his head was the first time he’d tried to kill himself. The angel… of course he hadn’t known Sam was an angel then, he’d only thought Sam was another one of his hallucinations… begging him not to kill himself. Not to die… It was ironic that if Dean had died, gone to hell then as he’d deserved, then Sam would have never known him, never loved him, wouldn’t be suffering right now because of him… It was ironic that this might be the last time he would ever “hear” Samuel’s voice, once more begging and pleading not to die, if he loved Sam… and Dean wanted to die _because_ he loved Sam so much. Wanted to be with the angel in heaven, earth, or hell, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to be with him…

Besides, it was already too late. His body was already too weak. He’d already lost too much blood.

_I need you… can’t… without you…_

He gladly let darkness swallow him in its cold embrace.

*

Was he in hell? He didn’t know. If he was, it wasn’t like the hell he remembered. It was worse. A private hell, just for him, where he had to watch as Sam was beaten, torture, raped… and there was nothing he could do. He was helpless. Only able to watch. Only able to feel. No one heard him when he screamed along with Sam, feeling everything that the angel felt. No one saw the tears pouring down his face. No one paid attention to the curses falling from his lips at the one… Gabriel… torturing Sam. Raping Sam…

It had to be hell. It had to be… because it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be really happening. The nightmares… the reason why he refused to sleep… they couldn’t be real. But he couldn’t wake up. He couldn’t… wake… up…

_SAMUEL!_

*

The light blinded him. All he saw was white, burning into his eyes like hot embers. There was a shrill screaming alarm coming from somewhere. He didn’t know where, or what it was, but it only made him panic more.

“Samuel!” He cried out without thinking, and then choked on his own breath almost before the last syllable was out of his mouth. Samuel was gone… he was alone…

Worse, he was alive…

* * *

Dragging a chair close, Michael watched over Dean. He could tell from the kid’s jerky movements that he was having nightmares, and he’d watched the doctors pump sedatives into him to no avail. He was tempted, so tempted to wipe everything away, give him a fresh start.

Bowing his head, he wondered if he should just do it. Dean had suffered all his life, he’d made such headway with Samuel. That he’d fallen in love with the angel was no sin. His gaze went to the bandage wrapped arms of the boy and he shook his head.

Gripping the railing of Dean’s bed, he whispered. “Are you trying to damn your soul? Shall I take it all away, you memories? Will you find peace then?”

* * *

The voice beside him startled Dean badly, and he blinked his eyes rapidly trying to focus. Trying to make the white disappear. Trying to make sense of the words. Was he trying to damn his soul? Yes. He was trying to be with Samuel. He didn't care if that meant he was damned for all eternity. As long as he was damned with Samuel...

Take it away? His memories? Peace... No! He didn't want peace, god damn it! He wanted Samuel! He didn't want to forget...

Though a small evil part inside of him whispered that if he forgot everything that he would never know what he was missing. Dean snarled at that part inside of him. That cowardly part that would dare to even consider giving up his memories of Samuel. The only thing in his life that had ever mattered. The only thing that he'd ever treasured. The only one who had ever really loved him...

He would take all the pain, all of it and more, all over again, just to have Samuel back with him.

The bright light finally gave way to blobs of shadow floating in front of his eyes and slowly those blobs shifted into focus. Dean blinked a few more times. Wondering if he was still dreaming... or if he really _was_ hallucinating... for the first time in his life.

"Samuel?" Dean whispered, his voice barely a breath. Then he surged up, he didn't even know where he found the strength to sit up. Of course the restraints binding his wrists to the sides of the bed brought him up short, prevented him from wrapping his arms around the angel like he wanted, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that Samuel was there as he kissed the angel hard, pouring all his love and desperate need into the kiss.

* * *

Michael's eyes widened when Dean suddenly jackknifed up as far as he could, and slanted his mouth across his own. Before he could say a word, he was being kissed, kissed in a way he never had before. Of course he allowed Dean to kiss him, offering whatever comfort he could by his touch... if this was what Dean needed.

He was passive, he didn't kiss Dean back, but he felt something stirring deep inside him. He started to notice a tension that was building low in his belly, and an urge... the urge to move his own tongue, to tangle it with Dean's. His hands gripped the railing as he fought against the need.

Yes... yes kissed before, to offer comfort. He'd kissed in the human manner, for the same reason. But he'd never been tempted to kiss back in response to his body's reactions. He now had an inkling of what Samuel had faced, day in and day out, knowing the determination of this young man.

Closing his eyes, Michael reminded himself what Dean meant to Samuel, and what had happened to Samuel as he result of succumbing to temptation. But desire... in and of itself, unacted upon, like the love and desire Gabriel had for Sam, that was no sin. Later, he would reflect upon this moment some more. Now... now he'd concentrate on blocking the sounds that were welling up in the back of his throat, that he refused to give voice to.

* * *

Despite his desperate overwhelming need to reconnect with his lover in every way possible, Dean knew something was... wrong... almost immediately. For starters. Samuel didn’t kiss him back. The angel didn’t push him away or try to pull away. He allowed him entrance into his mouth and let Dean’s tongue explore wherever he wished, but Samuel didn’t reciprocate. Didn’t encourage. Didn’t make any sounds of pleasure or try to hold him in his arms. The longer it went on the more wrong it seemed until finally, no matter how much it hurt to break that connection, Dean pulled back.

“Samuel?” Just one word, a question and a desperate plea all at once. But even as he looked into the angel’s eyes, a part of him knew... this wasn’t Samuel. The connection simply wasn’t there. The deep soul level connection he’d always felt with the angel. The warmth. The love. The touch of Samuel’s thoughts... nothing but cold...

Crushed didn’t even begin to cover it as Dean fell back to the bed but he still couldn’t turn his wounded eyes away from the image of his beloved, no matter that it wasn’t real. Wasn’t really Sam, just a trick... anger at the deception was just beginning to boil within him but it was still too buried beneath the hurt to surface at the moment.

“Who are you?” 

* * *

When Dean pulled away and said Samuel’s name, Michael blinked. He’d been lost... somewhere. Focusing on Dean’s face, he saw the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment, the knowledge. He also sensed the build up of fury, no unusual for one Dean Winchester.

“I’m sorry, Dean, it’s me... Michael.” He raised his hand to silence Dean, so that he could explain. “Not a sick joke, I would never do that to you. You tried to kill yourself, and they would only allow next of kin... your brother, per the court papers in your files, is Samuel. I had to come as him.”

He looked at the door, and then back at Dean. “It is very important that when the doctors come, you act... reasonably, like you have come back to your senses, or they will want to keep you under psychiatric observation.” He could take Dean out easily enough, but he wanted the records to be clean so that the young man would not have to be on the run.

“Do you understand?” he asked, reaching out and touching the side of Dean’s face. “You are not alone, I’m here for you. The are many who love you. You have to find a way to make peace ... to want to live. If you want me to take away your memories, or dampen them... make them like a dream, I can do that for you.”

* * *

Michael? Dean wanted to be angry. He really did. It would have been nice at that point to feel anything other than pain and misery. In the face of the angel’s sincere apology however the anger in him withered and died. Just like everything else inside of him.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle humorlessly however when the angel told him he should behave reasonably. Like he’d come back to his senses… like this was just some teenage adolescent angst phase or a cry for attention or something.

He didn’t pull away from Michael’s gentle touch to his face, but neither did he respond to it. “Many” who loved him? Who? He almost asked the angel. Only Bobby had really noticed the absence of his presence, and he was pretty damned sure that only Bobby would really mourn him once he was gone. He was also pretty damned sure that Bobby would get along just fine without him.

Dean didn’t _want_ to live. Not without Samuel.

The young man finally looked at Michael, wearing Samuel’s face, and his eyes narrowed in his first display of emotion other than anguish in what felt like a long time.

“No. I don’t want to _forget_. I’m not letting you take his memory away from me too.” Dean said firmly. He didn’t care how much it hurt remembering, he didn’t want to forget! “I don’t want peace. I don’t want to live. I want Samuel! If that has to be in hell, then I don’t care!” 

* * *

"I'll respect your wishes, but if you ever change your mind, you have only to ask," Michael answered, dropping his hand and searching Dean's troubled face. "Do you think dying, killing yourself will reunite you with him?" That thought had never occurred to Michael, nor could he follow Dean's reasoning. "What in heaven's name gives you that idea?" Elbows braced on his knees, leaning toward the bed, Michael shook his head. "A good hunter looks before he leaps."

True, this was an emotionally charged situation and Dean had just lost his best friend, guardian and lover, all at once. He felt alone in this world, disconnected, and confused. "I want to help you Dean, I really do. I care what happens to you," he confessed, his gaze locked with Dean's. "I believe you are operating under some sort of misconception. Even if Samuel had been sent to hell, and you sent your soul there after him, part of your torture would be that you'd never see him. It wouldn't be _hell_ if you got anything you wanted, now would it?"

He sighed and looked down. "Samuel's punishment is two centuries of solitary confinement. He will be well cared for during that period and though we shall miss him, he will be back in the fold after he has served his time. I know that doesn't help you or make you feel better, but believe me, he'd in a much better place than hell. Once an angel is sent to hell... we lose all jurisdiction over them. You saw yourself the punishment that is visited on angels in Satan's domain."

The orderly pushed in a cart, then picked up a tray of food and placed it on the table, which he pushed over the bed. "Shall I send a nurse to feed him?"

"I will do it." Michael waited for the orderly to leave, then reached out and unbound Dean's right hand. "Don't make me regret this."

* * *

Dean turned his face away from Michael the second that the angel dropped his hand. As much as he wanted to see Samuel… he didn’t want it to be like this. A lie. It was just too painful looking up into the face of the other angel that now mirrored his lovers and knowing it wasn’t real. That it was just an illusion.

He never knew angels were capable of this. Sure, he knew that they were capable of making themselves invisible and using glamour, or whatever, to make themselves seem more human like and less… awe inspiring. But Samuel’s human form and his true form weren’t all _that_ different. This…

Dean frowned and felt his anger building up again when Michael basically called him an idiot for thinking that killing himself would reunite him with Samuel. Right now, he definitely didn’t appreciate the mocking.

The young man turned angry eyes on the angel when Michael said he wanted to “help” him. If he really wanted to help him, he would not have saved him. The angel would have let him die so he could go to Samuel. He didn’t care what the angel thought. He could and _would_ find Samuel again, no matter if it took an eternity in hell. He would _find_ him and nothing was going to stop him, god damn it!

Though Dean fairly gaped at the angel when Michael tried to tell him that Samuel _wasn’t_ in hell. That he would be _well cared for_. Did the angel think he was completely stupid! Or had Michael been lied to? He wouldn’t put anything past that bastard angel Gabriel, he really wouldn’t.

Dean kept his mouth shut only through a great force of will when the orderly came and left. When Michael released one of his restraints, Dean wasted no time grasping the angel’s arm in an unforgiving grip. Not that he could actually hurt the angel, especially not as weak as he was, and the fact that his fingers weren’t really working all that well at the moment. Still it was satisfying to see the mild look of surprise on Michael’s face.

“Yes. I’ve seen the punishments of hell. I’ve felt the heat practically roasting the flesh from my bones. I’ve felt the whips tearing open my flesh clear down to bone. I’ve felt the chains made of ice heated till they were brands scorching and boiling my skin. I’ve felt the spikes driven through my hands and ankles, pinning me to ground like a morbid crucifix.” As he spoke, Dean tried to _show_ Michael everything he had seen, everything he had felt. He’d never done this before. He could pick up feelings, thoughts, images from Samuel, but he’d never tried to share them before. From the expression on Michael’s face, he was doing a pretty good job of it.

“I’ve heard him screaming. While he’s being… tortured… raped… I’ve seen it, heard it, felt it… every time I close my eyes. I know they’re not dreams. Tell me again that’s not hell. Tell me again that he’s in a _better_ place. Try to lie to me again…”

 

* * *

The angel looked at Dean’s hand clamped around his arm, then up at Dean, cocking his head. He’d released him to enable him to eat, not to get him even more wound up.

Michael’s breath whooshed out of him, not at Dean’s words per se, but at the images... the feelings, the sensations that were suddenly forced into his mind. His first instinct was to toss Dean right out but the more he saw, the more he realized what Dean was trying to tell him, show him. What he was seeing... feeling, through thick lenses that made the images blurry, and softened the physical sensations.. it was Samuel, Samuel’s punishment.

“It cannot be... it cannot...” he chanted, wanting to reject everything Dean showed him. Gabriel would never... he wouldn’t dare... he loved Samuel... their brother... His chest rose and fell as he saw Gabriel’s face, twisted in anger, come closer, felt his lips get bitten, heard Samuel deny him over and over and over until it rang in his head like church bells.

As Dean wound down and stopped projecting, Michael sagged in his chair. Dean’s words washed over him, all the things he’d felt, and the demands ... demands that he guaranty Samuel was safe... demands he would have unquestionably met five minutes ago.

He gripped the bed railing, eyes troubled. “How can you be sure it’s not a product of your mind? This is...” Looking down, he put his hands on his thighs. “It is a betrayal that I have difficulty believing. Prove to me it’s real. Ask Samuel to answer this question.” Michael put a question to Dean in the Enochian tongue, something Dean could never answer on his own. His question was simple: _Is it true?_

* * *

Dean probably shouldn’t have been surprised by Michael’s reaction to what he’d shown the angel. Michael thought Dean was crazy. Hell, maybe he fucking _was_ crazy. He’d been told he was crazy all his life. By doctors, by shrinks, hell, even his own parents had thought he was crazy. Abandoning him to that damned mental institution for half of his life and forgetting he ever existed. Maybe they were all right after all. Maybe Dean was nothing more than a fucking lunatic. Maybe all he was seeing really was only in his mind, a sick hallucination... he hoped so, god, he hoped so.

Prove it. How the hell could he possibly prove it? The shrinks had tried that tactic with him once. Had asked him if what he was really seeing was real, then he should be able to prove it to them. But how could they believe him when no one else saw what he saw? They couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel how the hallucinations had made him feel, then it couldn’t be real.

Now, he’d somehow finally managed to do what he had always thought possible. To show someone what it was he was seeing, and Michael still didn’t believe him. Dean didn’t know what else to do. He wanted to tell Michael to fuck off and prove it to himself. To go see for himself whether or not Samuel was “save and sound” as the angel insisted if he didn’t believe Dean.

Then Michael was telling him to ask Samuel... and Dean felt his chest tighten all the more with pain. Most of the time all he felt was that cold icy emptiness along the bond between him and Samuel. How Dean had always felt before he first felt Samuel speak to him in the moments before his death. How it had felt every time Dean closed the link between them. How it had felt when Samuel had been close to dying from Cain’s attack. How he had felt when Samuel had crossed that barrier into hell, trying to rescue the angel that had been trapped there. That was another reason why Dean was sure that’s where Sam had been sent.

He only got the faintest glimpses of what Sam was experiencing, except when Dean slept. Then, like Samuel had once pulled him into the dream they shared, the first time Sam had made love to him, he could see and feel everything.

Dean closed his eyes, and tried anyway. What did he really have to lose? He’d already lost everything. Maybe if he proved it to Michael then the angel would not interfere again when Dean tried to end his life a third time and go to Samuel. Third time was the charm...

The young man pushed at the cold dark barrier as hard as he could, his head felt like it was splitting in two from the effort, and he felt a warm drop of crimson spill from his nose from the effort. Pain and despair washed over him, even worse than what he’d felt in his dreams, and Dean knew he’d succeeded.

_Samuel..._

Dean felt the hot tears on his face, knew that Michael was watching him sob, but he didn’t care.

With effort, Dean repeated the foreign words that Michael had told him to ask Samuel. 

* * *

Samuel’s head slammed against the wall, but he continued to refuse to look Gabriel in the eyes, refused to look at his face. The archangel had not taken kindly to being told it was because Sam did not want to see he _monster_ who’d replaced his friend. In a moment of weakness, he’d broken his silence and railed at Gabriel, told him he was worse than Cain... at least Cain was a stranger, and enemy, Gabriel’s conduct was a betrayal. Now he was paying for it.

Something, a warm sensation wormed its way through Sam’s apathy. Eyes closed, he frowned, he knew this feeling. And then there was warmth and love and fear for him and desperation. There was Dean’s voice inside his head.

He wasn’t supposed to be there, but Sam had never been able to stop him. The only thing he could do was try to mask his situation, try to protect Dean from it. Still, his lover’s presence drew a smile from him, the first genuine smile since he’d been confined to this solitary hell.

“You laugh, you laugh at me?” Gabriel asked, eyes blazing at his own failure to consummate the sex act he craved, and Samuel’s mockery. He backhanded Samuel, again, and again, punishing him for not giving to him what he gave to Dean, for not giving him the release he needed, sure that a little effort would do it.

The wall shook with the force of Sam’s face striking it, but he still smiled. He heard is lover’s question, knew... understood he was with Michael, safe. And even though he couldn’t... wouldn’t break another vow by answering, he found a moment of happiness that Gabriel could not touch.

* * *

Michael watched Dean for a long time, then stood up. “Enough.” Grabbing some tissues from the table across the room, he returned and wiped Dean’s nose and face free of blood and tears, touching his forehead and this time forcing some calmness.

If Dean had an answer from Samuel, he would have blurted it out by now instead of sitting there, looking miserable and angry.

“I believe you.” Michael’s voice boomed in the small room, his eyes, usually calm, were lit with emotion. “Samuel would not break his agreement to solitary confinement, he... I always thought he was the most honorable among us.”

He started to pace. “I don’t know where he is being held, and I don’t _want_ to believe what you say about his treatment. I have seen many things Dean,” he turned and looked at him. “I know you’re not lying to me, but what you think is the truth... that may be a lie. Just as you, in your heart truly believed that Samuel is in hell, and that you could join him there. So don’t get... don’t give me your attitude, you _can_ be wrong,” he nodded.

A few steps later, he stopped again. “I’ll get you out of here, to your place. You will not get into any further trouble or so help me...” his jaw pulsed. “I’ll see what I can find out from Gabriel, and then we will talk again.”

* * *

  
_Samuel… please answer me… please…_ Dean begged softly into his lover’s mind, but he knew that Sam wouldn’t. Sam had only reached out to him when Dean had slit his wrists, when he had been bleeding to death on the cold tile floor of the bathroom. Sam was trying to pull away from him, even now. Trying to mask the pain he was feeling… but Dean could still feel it.

He could also feel… Sam’s happiness… and that only made Dean sob harder. Then the connection was broken when Michael spoke and broke his concentration.

Dean opened his eyes when he felt the angel wiping off his face and touch his forehead. He felt the sense of calm wash over him, knew it was artificial, only coming from Michael, but right now it was welcome. Since Dean felt like he was coming apart at the seams.

Michael believed him… but the angel still thought he was wrong… that he was crazy. That it was all just in his twisted head, like he _wanted_ to imagine these things being done to his lover… Or hell, maybe Michael thought something _else_ was putting these things into his head. Cain? Cain had gotten into his head before… but somehow he didn’t think so. He knew, he just knew, what he was seeing, feeling, from Samuel was real.

But Michael insisted that Sam was not in hell. Where was he then? Gabriel… Dean’s eyes widened in understanding, what Michael meant when he said betrayal… The young man felt fury burn through him to rival the fires of hell. Gabriel. Not some demon. _Gabriel_ was doing this to Sam. Torturing Sam. Raping… The dream Dean had woken from came back to him suddenly in crystal clarity.

Trouble? Oh no, Dean wasn’t going to get into any ‘trouble’ once Michael got him out of here. What he _was_ going to do was find out where Sam was. He was going to get Sam back, god damn it. No matter what it took. He’d tear this whole god damned planet apart if he had to. Then he was going to find out how to kill a fucking angel. 

* * *

[One Week Later]

Michael landed right behind Dean in the dark alley and tapped him on the shoulder, moving quickly away before Dean attempted to strike him. He knew about hunter reactions, and this one was probably the touchiest of them all. When Dean turned his face toward him, for an instant, Michael was transported back to that moment in the hospital when Dean had kissed him. Warmth flushed through Michael's system and he had to look away and take a cool breath of air to clear his thoughts.

The angel pulled himself together. "You're right. I think Gabriel is... he's not right in the head. Something's happened. I wish I could blame possession or..." he choked on his words, wanting to come to Gabriel's defense, to make Dean understand that century upon century, he'd fought by Gabriel's side, that they were brothers, all of them, that they had good times, and hard fought battles between them. It... this was difficult for him to accept.

Swallowing, he took a deep breath and paced away, hiding his face from Dean. "I think I know where he is being held. I had some help digging. Others have noticed... Gabriel's absences," he shook his head, knowing from Dean what Gabriel was likely doing. "He..." This was difficult for him to say. "He's taken to staying in the room... in your quarters, where we found you. I..."

* * *

True to his word Michael had gotten him out of the hospital before the next day and brought him home, but Dean had not stayed there long. Practically as soon as the angel had left he was up despite the order of bed rest for at least a few days. Dean had already wasted enough time. Three months. He'd wallowed and felt sorry for himself, when he should have been doing something. He should have been trying to get Samuel back. Instead he had left him…

He hadn't known, there was no way he could have known, he had thought Sam was completely beyond his reach, in hell… But that didn't matter. Dean knew he would never forgive himself.

Dean had showered and dressed. That had been hard. The bathroom was still covered in dried blood, but there wasn't much he could do about that right now because he didn't want to waste time cleaning it up. He'd gone to Bobby's then and though the older man had hugged him tightly he had also yelled and looked like he'd wanted to kill him himself. Bobby had obviously heard what Dean had done.

Dean told Bobby everything then. What he thought was happening to Sam… and the older man looked like he aged about ten years while Dean spoke. He told Bobby his plan to try to get Samuel back and take out that betraying bastard of an angel if he had the chance in the process. Of course Bobby thought he was mad, but agreed to help him. Samuel was his friend too, after all.

Over the next few days Dean threw himself back into hunting. Not to save people, his reasons were purely personal this time. He needed information and one way or another he was going to get it. Dean had been tracking down a source, rumors of a gun that could kill _anything_ , when Michael found him that night.

The young man's hand had already been on the trigger of his concealed weapon when he felt the light touch from behind and turned, his eyes narrowed, practically blazing. Though they softened immediately when he saw it was only Michael and lowered the his gun. The look on the angel's face wasn't very comforting…

But when Michael said he might know where Sam was being held, Dean felt a faint hope blossom in his chest for the first time in what felt like forever. Michael didn't need to elaborate. His room… their room… when they had stayed at Gabriel's home. The last place he and Sam had made love before… It was twisted and wrong in so many ways it made him feel sick and like he wanted to scream at the same time, but he reigned in his emotions. With difficulty.

"Where is Samuel? There?" Dean could hope, but he had a feeling it couldn't possibly be that easy.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Ignoring the question, Michael asked Dean. He looked... perhaps less physically ill than he had in resent months, though still gaunt, but there was a certain fire in him that Michael had not seen in a long time, since Australia. He searched Dean's face, and took a deep breath. It was as if the hunter within Dean had awakened. "Welcome back," he smiled, and even slapped Dean on the shoulder in the way of the humans.

Looking around the alley and allowing his sense to make certain they weren't being watched, he answered the question burning in Dean's eyes. "I'm not certain, but I believe he is being held in an Aztec pyramid that is still undiscovered by humans and is buried deep in the earth. It abuts a mountain, and there is a way in through a tunnel." He let his words sink in, and having felt first hand this man's love for Samuel, he knew that having said this much, he would be forced to tell him the rest and that nothing... nothing short of death would prevent Dean from trying to reach Sam.

"I tried to see him." Yes it would have violated many rules, but he'd thought about it long and hard and decided the rules didn't apply when an angel as powerful as Gabriel might be off the rails. His fists closed into tight balls as he shook his head. "The entrance was warded, no angels but for Gabriel can tread in there. None." He ran his hand through his longish dark hair. "I know what you are going to ask me, but how can I take you there and leave you alone... not watch over you. It would go against Samuel's last wishes."

* * *

Dean would have accused Michael for purposefully side stepping his question if he hadn’t come to believe, really believe, that the angel did care about his well being. Not just as a favor to Samuel, or because Samuel had been Michael’s friend for centuries. Michael cared about _him_. He could see it in the angel’s eyes.

But while Dean was touched by the concern, whether or not he was ‘all right’ really didn’t matter. What was he going to do? Go home and ‘rest’ while he knew that his lover was being tortured and raped by a psychotic angel? No. So Dean certainly wasn’t going to tell Michael that he sometimes felt so weak he could barely stand, his hands shook, and had dizzy spells from months of nearly starving himself, lack of sleep, and his recent suicide attempt.

Dean managed to return Michael’s smile with a tight one of his own however.

A pyramid? Aztec… that meant south western United States somewhere. Not far at all. Not across the globe and not in some other dimension like Gabriel’s home. So damned close… a knife of guilt twisted even deeper into Dean’s gut but he pushed the feeling aside so he could concentrate on what Michael was telling him. So, Michael had tried to go there and couldn’t get past the barrier, but there was a chance Dean could if he went alone. The pompous prick probably never considered a mere human might be able to find Samuel…

Dean almost smiled when Michael told him why he didn’t want to leave Dean to face Gabriel alone. He knew by now of course that was only part of the reason.

“I think if Samuel had known what was going to happen to him, his last wishes would have been a hell of a lot different.” Dean finally said and sighed heavily. Leaning against the wall and looking up at the starry sky above. He wanted to tell Michael to take him there now, but Dean knew he couldn’t just walk in there without any means to protect himself. He wasn’t going to be any good to Samuel dead. And while he’d managed to knock Gabriel on his ass once with his powers, he didn’t really trust them now when he was already so damned weak to begin with.

“I’m going to kill him, you know. Gabriel. I’m not going to let him get away with this. I’m not going to give him the chance to hurt Samuel again.” Dean finally said softly with all the casualness as though he were commenting on the weather. Then he turned to look at Michael directly. “Bobby heard from another hunter who heard from a contact about a gun that can supposedly kill anything. The contact apparently frequents the 66 Club. I’m going there now.”

Apparently the 66 Club was some kind of secret underground cult meeting place. Its clientele was just about anything that went bump in the night, from witches and vampires to demons. While there was a ‘law’ of neutrality, meaning anyone and anything could enter and leave unharmed… hunters weren’t exactly welcome. It was said a few hunters had gone in and come out just to be torn to shreds right outside the entrance after leaving. Of course, Bobby didn’t want him to go. But it wasn’t like there was a wide variety of options for means of killing an angel.

“You’re welcome to come with me if you want.”

* * *

Michael was deeply troubled by Dean's words. They weren't just words, the angel knew that Dean meant every word. He knew how driven this young man could be and that once he had a goal, it was difficult to change his mind.

"You cannot kill an angel of the Lord." He grabbed Dean's forearm, and cocked his head to the side. "Listen to me. If by some miracle we get Samuel out, you and he will have to be on the run, do you understand that? If you kill an angel, even those of us who would not bother to hunt you... every last one of us will be on your ass so fast you won't know what hit you. And when you die, you will go straight to hell... and you will leave Samuel in a hell of your making. If you stop and think, you will realize that is counterproductive... just like killing yourself would have been."

Yes, he was harsh, but he'd found that soft words did not get through to Dean Winchester. He needed to be approached with the stark truth.

"I'll come with you, we'll get this ... this gun, but it is for anything you may have to face in the pyramid. I don't know what types of defenses he's installed, think of... the minautor in the labrynth, that sort of thing." Michael shrugged. "And... if... I show you where the temple is, I want you to take one or two hunters with you. You cannot do this alone."

* * *

Dean’s eyes narrowed at the angel in anger and he tore his arm out of Michael’s grip.

“Don’t give me that angel of the lord crap!” The young man all but growled at the angel. Anger burning in his eyes but there was pain as well. Not physical pain. It was the memory of the pain he felt from Samuel. Of all the pain and torture that his lover had gone through at _Gabriel’s_ hands. How dare Michael try to tell him that he couldn’t kill the other angel for that? No matter what kind of angel Gabriel might have been a couple hundred years ago, he was definitely _not_ that angel anymore. To Dean, he was worse than a demon. Worse than Cain. Because Samuel had trusted Gabriel…

“Angels don’t torture and rape people just because they are _jealous_! Demons do that! I’m not going to let him get away with it! And I’m certainly not going to give him the chance to do it to Samuel again!” Dean almost yelled, then he stopped, took a deep breath and continued softer but his voice was filled with no less conviction or anger.

“I told Samuel once I was willing to go to hell for him. That hasn’t changed. I’m going to put Gabriel down like the rabid dog he is one way or another. Whatever he once was, he’s not that angel anymore, and you know it. He’s like Cain now, and if he’s not, he will be soon. I’m not going to let that happen.”

Dean paused, studying Michael carefully.

“If you really believed me, like you say you do, then you wouldn’t try to stop me. I’m going to save Samuel one way or another, with or without your help. I’m going to kill Gabriel, again, with or without your help. I understand we will have to be on the run. If that’s the only way we can be together, fine. But instead of trying to stop me, I’d rather you go to the other angels and tell them what is really happening. Whether or not they believe you, they need to know… in case I fail.”

* * *

  
Michael's eyes darkened with anger. "I know it is conduct unbecoming an angel, why do you think I'm here in the first place," he said through gritted teeth. "Bringing an angel to justice is NOT something for you to dabble with. Leave that to those of us who know what we are doing. There are channels, and it takes time, but there is a right way to do it."

He could see the rebellion in Dean's eyes and pointed at him. "You are arrogant and impatient. You think you know everything, but you don't. Isn't that why Samuel is where he is right now?" he demanded. "You thought your way was best, that you could get away with anything, that your what... twenty something years of knowledge trumped Samuel's thousand of years of experience?"

Michael knew Samuel had to have been catering to Dean, that Sam would not have been caught if not for the prodding by his ward. Dean had admitted bits and pieces, but even without his own admissions, just knowing the characters of the angel and the hunter, Michael knew how it had come down. "You didn't listen to Samuel, now you won't listen to me. All I'm telling you is that you kill Gabriel and you defeat what I assume is your main purpose, to be with Samuel. If that's what you want, have at it," he sliced his hand through the air in disgust. "Running from imprisonment will be hard enough, but running from murder.... your life and Samuel's will be as hellish as his life is right now, by your own hand."

He turned his head slightly. "There is activity in the west. I may be called. Until then, let's go to this club of yours." With a thought, he changed into jeans and a tee shirt.

* * *

Dean barely managed to keep from flinching as though Michael had punched him when the angel flat out blamed him for what was happening to Samuel right now. As though Dean hadn’t already been blaming himself enough, to be reminded of it so bluntly…

Fine, he was arrogant. Yes, he was impatient. Of course, this was all his fault.

But that didn’t change Dean’s mind. Gabriel had to die. The ‘justice’ of angels certainly hadn’t helped Samuel so far. Michael didn’t admit it, but if there was any chance at all the other angels would have believed what Gabriel was doing to Samuel, he would have _told_ someone already. Gabriel might be strong, but he wasn’t as strong as all the other angels put together. But Michael knew no one would believe any accusations against Gabriel. There would be no justice against Gabriel. So what was he supposed to do? Just let Gabriel live so that the other angel could hunt them down? So he could send the other angels to hunt them down anyway, kill him, and take Samuel back and do all the horrible things to him that Gabriel was doing to him now?

No.

He was a hunter. He was going to do what hunters did best. Kill monsters. Protect people. Right now, the monster was Gabriel, and Dean was going to protect the person he loved most damn it.

Maybe Gabriel would kill him and it wouldn’t even be an issue. Maybe he would succeed, kill the angel, and then the other angels would kill him. Maybe he deserved that… for allowing what was happening to Samuel, for being the cause of his lover’s suffering now… Maybe going to hell was his rightful punishment all along. As long as Samuel was safe, as long as Gabriel could never hurt him again… Dean was willing to pay any price for that. He was willing to accept any punishment. Even if it meant he’d never see Samuel again.

“I’ll do this alone. Goodbye Michael.” Dean finally said softly, and didn’t wait for the angel to reply before he turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. No matter how this turned out he had a feeling he would never see the angel again. 

* * *

Stretching his arms out, Michael sent electric heat out his fingertips. The entire alley was lit with a bluish white light. Images flashed on the wall, images of Samuel being ripped to shreds, skin, flesh, muscle and bone separately peeled off him as he shouted helplessly.

"THAT is the penalty for an angel involved in any way in the execution of another angel. Your love for Samuel is a selfish love, not as pure as I'd thought, if you would risk that to appease your base need for vengeance." Michael spoke in an even voice.

The bluish light faded, and so did Michael.

* * *

Dean stood there for a long time in that dark alley. His hands clenched into fists and his head bowed. The images Michael had forced upon him dancing behind his closed eyes and the angel’s last words ringing in his ears.

Selfish… fine… add that to the long list of his sins.

If the angel was trying to scare him, fine, it was working. So what was Michael trying to tell him? That was why Samuel wasn’t even trying to fight back against Gabriel? Because if he did some kind of holier than thou bastards would rip him apart if he dared to do something like _defend_ himself?

The more he learned about angels lately, the more he hated them. What, they never heard of extenuating circumstances? They never heard of self defense? Stupid fucking rules…

Dean would never risk that kind of harm upon Sam, but he would do what he had to. If Gabriel was there when he went to get Samuel, he was going to take the bastard down. He wasn’t just going to stand there and let Gabriel kill him, and like he told Michael, he wasn’t going to let Gabriel hurt Sam again. No matter what.

If what Michael showed him was going to be Dean’s fate… he’d accept that. It was obvious that Dean was working on his own. Samuel wouldn’t be blamed for Gabriel’s death. Dean would make sure of that when the angels came for him. Maybe it was a good thing in the end that Michael wasn’t going to help him. He certainly didn’t want the angel ‘implicated’ in Gabriel’s death.


	15. Chapter 15

  
The 66 Club was right where Bobby had reluctantly told him where it would be. From the outside, it looked very unassuming. In fact, it had the look of a pretty classy joint. Yeah, it was located in a part of the city where you might not want to walk alone at night, and there were hookers and drug dealers standing on the street corners peddling their various wares. But the average passerby on the street didn't give it a second glance.   


  
Dean, unfortunately, had never been the average passerby. 

He could feel the evil, the taint, emanating from the building louder than the thumping techno music playing from inside. He could see, what others walking by could not. The hookers standing there on the corner were really sirens. The nicely dressed couple that climbed out of the Lexus that had just pulled up were demons. The valet that had taken their car was a particularly nasty breed of hell spawn. 

Yup. This was definitely the place. He barely managed to swallow down the bile that welled up in his throat, the feeling of the darkness emanating from that place practically raping his senses. Since he'd begun hunting, became accustomed to facing more and more evil things on a regular basis, he'd learned to control his reactions to their presence a little better. A single demon no longer had him on his knees gasping and shaking just from its presence alone like that night Samuel had saved him. 

But there might be a hundred demons in that place, as well as things darker and more powerful. They would know right away what he was. A hunter. But they would also know he could see them for what they truly were. If he made it out of that place alive… even with the rule of 'neutrality' it would be a miracle. 

Dean knew Bobby was right, he never should have come here. But he didn't have a choice. He had no other way of tracking down that gun he needed. All the other trails, and there'd been few to begin with, had gone stone cold almost before they began. The Colt. He needed that gun if he was going to save Samuel. The source, the demon that might be able to help him, if he could make a deal with it was here. 

He took a deep breath and tossed the gun he'd pulled on Michael into the dumpster beside him in the alley. He'd only taken it as a precaution to get here. Dean knew if he walked into that place with a weapon, even if it probably wouldn't kill anything inside, he was a dead man. Hell, he would probably be a dead man anyway, but hopefully not before he managed to save Sam.

Shoring his confidence, he crossed the street and walked right up to the front of the club. The hookers on the street corner eyed him up and down and licked their lips but he ignored them. The 'bouncer' at the door, a really big and really disgusting demon with rotting breath stood in his way scowling. It looked him up and down and then smirked evilly before stepping aside. Dean didn't bother to pat himself on the back. He'd known already that getting in was never going to be the problem. 

Inside the club was worse than he'd imagined. It was like every twisted evil thing that he'd ever laid his eyes on as a hunter, or had given him nightmares as a child, was here. The air was thick with evil and pushing through it was a little like pushing through thick muddy water. Sometimes he literally felt like he was drowning. The cold dark stares that followed him, some hungry with lust, others for blood, slithered over his skin like snakes. Dean clung to the image of Samuel in his mind, reminding himself why he was here, why he was doing this, as he made his way up to the bar.

The bartender, another demon, gave him a predatory look.

"I'm here to see Azazel." Dean told the demon, and if its grin got even more twisted, he ignored it.

*

The demons led him deeper into the club, into one of the private rooms in the back. The creature waiting for him there was one of the most hideous he'd ever seen. Its blazing yellow eyes regarded him with amusement, and with a wave of its decaying hand the other demons in the room filed out quickly, leaving them alone.

"Have a seat, Dean Winchester." Azazel told him with, and while Dean would have rather not approached the powerful demon any closer than he already was, if he wanted something from the bastard he was going to have to play along. 

"You know why I'm here." Dean stated flatly after he'd sat. If the demonic bastard knew his name, either it or one of the other many evil creatures in the club had already read his mind and told Azazel what he wanted. Azazel's smirk confirmed it.

"Of course." The demon said. "I also know you have nothing to bargain with, boy. Your soul already has a one way ticket to the pit. Two, in fact, _and_ revenge on the mind? Killing an angel of all things?" 

The demon shook its head and tsked. Dean clenched his jaw and stared back at the demon unflinchingly.

"Cut the bullshit. You wouldn't have agreed to see me unless I had something you _were_ willing to bargain with." Dean told Azazel, and the demon chuckled in amusement.

"Smart boy. Not too smart. But not a complete imbecile either." Azazel said, leaning forward. His eyes raking down Dean's body with no small amount of hunger. But though there was desire in the demon's eyes, that wasn't what made a chill crawl down the young man's spine.

"I have a… client. That might be interested in what you have to offer. Your soul is worthless, but your body… he desires it greatly." Azazel continued. Dean didn't need the demon to elaborate.

"Cain." Dean grit out and the demon's smile broadened.

"Smart." It said again, leaning back again and threading its fingers together as it watched him in amusement. Dean's stomach fell down somewhere to the center of the earth as he recalled Cain's last words whispered in his head before he'd managed to force the fallen angel out of his mind. How once Dean learned what Sam's fate was going to be, Dean would be begging for the bastards help. Dean never wanted to imagine that he was right…

Samuel… it was his fault that his lover was suffering. Hell, even _Michael_ had blamed him for what was happening to Sam now. All because of him… If Dean had never come into Sam's life none of this would have happened. If he'd only died and gone to hell in the first place… like he should have… But give his body to Cain? 

"Tick Tock, Dean. Time is running out. It's not such a bad deal. You get everything you want, well, almost. You get the colt, the only human made weapon capable of killing an angel. I'll even throw in a free trip to where you're beloved angel is being held. Oh don't worry, it won't be hard to find, I have ways your angel pals don't. Samuel goes free _and_ I give you three days to spend with said angel however you like. But, once that time is up, you give yourself to Cain willingly. Trust me, Dean. You won't get a better deal anywhere else. In fact, I'd wager it's the only way you'll make it out of here alive." Azazel said, smiling, unaffected by Dean's glare.

Unfortunately the young man knew everything the demon was telling him was probably true. He wasn't going to get a better deal. He wasn't going to find help anywhere else. Not the angels, no one. Sure, Michael might _want_ to help, but he couldn't do anything. He'd said as much. Proper channels… yeah right… the only 'evidence' that Gabriel was even torturing Sam was what Dean saw, and who would believe him? Not even Michael really believed him. How much longer could he just let that fucking bastard rape and torture the man he loved? It was his fault, he had to stop it, whatever the cost… even if Samuel hated him for it…

Hell, maybe they could even use it to their advantage. When he was handed over to Cain, they would again know where to find the fallen angel. Once the bastard had taken over his body, the angels could kill him, kill them both. Michael had said the angels would be coming after him anyway for killing Gabriel. Kill two… three… birds with one stone. Or one bullet. 

"It's a deal." Dean finally agreed. The demon's grin was pure evil but Dean didn't even flinch as it stood up and closed the distance between them. The young man closed his eyes and tried not to retch when the foul thing kissed him, and he felt something shift inside of him. Sealing the deal. 

"Go home, Dean. One of my… associates… will contact you soon." The demon said when it released him, and Dean couldn't get out of there fast enough. Dean made it all the way outside, back to the alley where he'd met Michael before he finally fell to his knees and vomited.    


* * *

Samuel sat on a stool in the middle of the room, wrists cuffed, arms chained above his head. He was dressed in clean white clothing, though he knew by the end of their session, some or all of it would be torn off him, or there might be a whipping that resulted in the white shirt sticking to his body in red lines of blood. Eyes downcast, he refused to look at Gariel who was pacing like a caged tiger, ranting at him.

"... and so you defiled yourself, with your dirty little human. With someone whose soul is marked for hell, Samuel, hell. He would be there, but for your interference and you know it."

The air grew a little cooler, though Sam remained motionless. Dean had done a lot of good, he was on the road to redemption. His soul was _not_ marked for hell. His lover was going to march through the gates of heaven when his time came, and he deserved to one thousand times more than Gabriel. He didn't make his arguments out loud though. Gabriel had long ago lost the ability to think logically when it came to Sam, and engaging him only gave Gabriel the satisfaction of interaction.

"I need to understand, help me understand Samuel, why you did this. How he tempted you, how he made you fall. I need to understand so that I may forgive," he said, stopping in front of Sam, cupping his chin and lifting it, then bringing his mouth down over Sam's. "Show me... show me what he did." His fingers bit harder into Sam's jaw, forcing Sam's mouth open. Gabriel plunged his tongue inside, trying desperately to engage Sam, then pulling away and brutally punching him in the face. "Why... why did you let him, and yet you won't let me?"

Sam's tongue caught the bit of blood at the corner of his mouth. The unfortunate thing was that he'd heal. Maybe if he didn't. Maybe if his entire body remained marked up, Gabriel would lose interest. Maybe.

The volume of Gabriel's shouting grew louder with his frustration. He started to insult Dean, telling Sam all the ways that particular human was worthless. He started with the blackness of his soul, to his physical imperfections, to his character defects.

Samuel's eyes grew black, almost black. He tried to ignore the words, tried not to react, but when Gabriel announced he was sleeping in the bed he'd caught the two of them in, Sam lifted his chin and stared darkly at Gabriel.

"What did you do in that bed, Samuel. How did he tempt you, what made you fornicate with him, I saw you... all the dirty things you did. I can almost feel them when I'm in that bed, almost know. Show me--"

Nostrils flaring, Samuel pushed images and feelings into Gabriel's head. He didn't allow him to _see_ Dean but instead showed him the things from Dean's point of view...what he saw when he kissed and touched Sam, coupled with Sam's feelings, and it was overpowering. "You. Can. Never. Compete. Never."

Gabriel fell down on his knees, his face a mask of anger and ecstasy.

Immediately, Sam wished he hadn't succumbed... hadn't struck back... hadn't engaged.

Crawling to Samuel, Gabriel put his hand on Sam's thigh, pushed up his shirt, touching... groping him, like he'd seen the hands in the images in his head. His cock was so hard, he had to believe that this time he would reach completion. "Yes, yes... Samuel, now show me." His mouth grinding against Sam's got him nowhere. He stood up, straddled Sam, pushing him back with the weight of his body, uncaring that the chains pulled on Sam's arms. "I want it... show me... show me what I'm punishing you for... show me... or by all that is holy, Samuel, you will regret it."

The grinding of Gabriel's arousal against his groin and stomach did nothing for Sam. He kept his mouth sealed shut, until Gabriel cut his air off. Then came the beating... in between thrusts, and gropes, Gabriel struck him, demanding he react. The pain was of no consequence to Sam, he took comfort in the fact that for some reason... Gabriel always lost his erection before he tried to penetrate any part of him, that he could never obtain a release. He knew the angel thought if he just responded, then it would be different.

"Do it... you give me what you gave that filthy scum," Gabriel shouted, riding Samuel's lap, his fist clenched around Sam's hair as he pulled his head back and stared into dark eyes, and frosty breaths hanging in the air. "Show me Samuel or I will hurt you, and hurt you and there will be no end to it," he snarled, having tasted the sensations Sam had shown him, wanting that beyond all else.

* * *

Dean had done what Azazel told him to do. He had gone home to get ready. To prepare himself, as much as he could, for what was to come.

He had showered, for no other reason than the hopes he could remove some of the stench… the taint… of the demons he’d been surrounded by less than an hour ago. He knew it was probably all in his mind, just a lingering memory, and mere water couldn’t possibly remove such a taint if one existed, but he felt better once he was done. Unfortunately he could also still taste Azazel’s kiss in his mouth even after he brushed his teeth and used mouthwash twice. He hoped that Samuel would not be able to taste it… feel it… the dark mark inside of him from the deal he’d made with the demon.

Dean went to his room and dressed, just a simple shirt and jeans, and then began strapping on his various weapons holsters and his bullet proof vest. He remembered the last time he had done so. When he had gone to Egypt to try to help Samuel and the other angels, where he had first seen Cain…

A shiver ran up his spine as he thought about the fallen angel. Remembering the dream, when Cain had kissed him, and of course the pain he’d felt when the fallen angel had tried to force him out of his own body and take it for his own. Why, if the monster wanted him so badly, he hadn’t tried to come for him in the months Samuel had been gone, when he was unprotected, Dean had no idea. Maybe he’d simply been too busy. Maybe, considering how Dean had fought before, he thought he wouldn’t be able to take him unless Dean was willing for some reason. Maybe he’d just wanted to watch the show, Sam being tortured and him tortured by what was happening to Samuel. Who knew?

Whatever reason, Dean tried to push those thoughts and fears of what would happen when his three days were up as far back into his mind as he could. He couldn’t let those thoughts distract him. One thing at a time. He had to be focused, sharp, if he wanted to save Samuel.

Dean went into the bedroom that he and Samuel had shared for the last year and pulled open Samuel’s closet, then opened the secret compartment. Samuel’s sword was there, gleaming a faint blue as always despite the darkness. So many times Samuel had told him not to touch it, that it could hurt, maybe even kill him, if he did. But Dean couldn’t just leave it here. They might not be able to come back, and they might need it. So Dean went over to the bed and ripped off the top sheet. Returning to the sword he hesitated only a moment. Samuel had said that the sword would burn his hand but he’d seen the angel lay it on the bed harmlessly many times. He hoped this would work.

He wrapped the sheet around the sword as best he could without touching it, and once he did Dean took a deep breath and finally lifted the blade from where it rested. An unpleasant vibrating sensation, much like a mild electric shock, ran up his arms, but that was all. Dean let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he held and brought the sword over to the bed, wrapping it as best he could in the second sheet, being very careful not to touch the actual sword.

After securing it in the leather holster that Dean usually used for his shotgun over his back, Dean waited. He didn’t have to wait for long. He felt the cold darkness long before he heard the knock on the door. Wow, polite for a demon. Strapping the sword to his back and doing his best to ignore the uncomfortable weight, Dean went to open the door.

He was a little surprised when he opened the door to see a man there… who looked like a man… not a grotesque rotting corpse like most demons appeared to him. The only thing really that gave away he wasn’t human, besides the dark evil emanating from the man, was the black bloodied wings spread out behind him. Another fallen angel… great. Though maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. The way Samuel had warded this place, maybe another angel, fallen or otherwise, was the only thing that could even approach Samuel’s home for miles.

“Hello Dean. I see you’re ready to go, let’s not waste anymore time.” The fallen angel said, but Dean didn’t move from the doorway for the moment.

“You have something for me?” Dean prompted, though at this point, even if Azazel had gone back on his deal and not gotten him the colt, he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t still try to go to Samuel even unarmed. The fallen angel merely chuckled and held out a plain wooden box to him.

“Of course, as promised.” It said and Dean took the box and opened it. The colt lay inside, so unassuming looking that Dean almost wanted to laugh. This was the gun that could kill anything? Dean almost wanted to go out and test it, just to be sure, but what was he going to do if it didn’t work? Sighing, the young man took the gun out of the box and tucked it behind him in the waistband of his jeans. He didn’t want Gabriel to know he had it, if the angel would even know what it was.

“I’m ready.” Dean finally said, taking one last look at his home, Samuel’s home, before he shut the door and followed the fallen angel to the roof.

*

The trip was mercifully brief. Dean wasn’t sure he could have dealt with having the fallen angel’s hands on him for much longer if it hadn’t been. Though it had leered at him, he hadn’t groped him or anything, but Dean still felt violated.

The place that the fallen angel brought him was exactly the way Michael had described it, so he knew this had to be the place. When they finally landed and the fallen angel let him go, Dean couldn’t get away from it fast enough. The fallen angel merely smirked at him.

“This is as far as I go human.” The fallen angel said, giving him one last hungry look before it flew away. Dean shivered, and was almost glad that he was already ‘taken’. Nothing was going to lay a hand on him if he was promised to Cain… a shudder worked its way though his body before he pushed the thought away and turned to the entrance that would lead him down into the buried pyramid.

Dean walked into the dark cave, wishing like hell he’d thought to bring a fucking flashlight with him. Though hearing some of the things skittering around in the dark as he walked deeper into the cave, probably things like snakes and scorpions, maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t see. Well, better snakes and scorpions than whatever else might be lurking around. Gabriel’s ‘protections’, Michael had said.

It wasn’t long before Dean came to the barrier that Michael had mentioned. It glowed a faint blue in the dark and was the only light so far Dean had seen in the cave. Dean pulled one of his regular guns out of its holster and approached the barrier slowly, not sure what to expect from it. Michael had said it was used to keep out other angels, but god knows what it might do to him. When it didn’t react to his presence even after he was standing within inches of it, Dean took a deep breath and slowly reached out. Almost expecting his arm to sizzle off as it passed through, but nothing happened. Dean felt a slight tingling sensation but since his flesh didn’t melt off he figured it was safe enough. Gabriel would never consider a mere human a threat to him.

When Dean passed through the barrier, he immediately felt the difference in the temperature around him. Christ, it was sweltering hot. Like a sauna. No wonder he had thought that Samuel was in hell. The heat was so bad it stung his eyes and made them water but he continued on. Deeper into the cave. Though after a while he noticed that the stone his hand rested on to help him find his way felt less like cave walls and more like a regular wall. He must be in the pyramid now.

It was still too dark for him to see, but his ears were working just fine. He thought he heard voices, just whispers, but his heart sped up and he walked faster. Ignoring how the crunching beneath his boots felt less like stone and more brittle, snapping sounds like twigs with every step he took. The deep hissing growl from behind him made Dean freeze and suddenly he knew what was crunching beneath his feet. Bones…

Dean cursed and turned, firing into the darkness. His gunshots like thunder echoing through the empty ancient halls. So much for the element of surprise. The loud roar of pain from whatever creature was in the room with him told him he’d hit his mark, the powerful blow that knocked him back into the wall told him he hadn’t killed it. 

* * *

Gabriel hadn't lied. There was no end to the pain. The images he'd show Gabriel seemed to have pushed the archangel over the edge, so far that he was relentless in striking Samuel again and again. When his bare hands were not enough, didn't draw Samuel out of his silent shell, Gabriel used a length of chain to beat him. The same type of chain that kept Samuel restrained.

The stool was kicked out from under him. His face, his body was a sticky mess of blood. His legs no longer supported him, so he hung from the roof of the cavern, arms being pulled out of their sockets, hardly adding to the misery of pain he felt across every inch of his body. He'd been in hell, and this was worse. To be taken to hell by a man who was your brother, a man who loved you for centuries, who fought at your back and in front of you.

Just as sweet oblivion started to claim him, Sam heard what he knew was the ricochet of bullets. The snarling, he couldn't identify, but he assumed it was some sort of warding creature. When the next blow from the chain never came, and it slithered to the ground, he forced his eyes open in time to see Gabriel stride out of the dark, stone room. Groaning, he wanted to find the cool darkness again... but something stirred within him. His mind wasn't working fast, but bits of a puzzle suddenly seemed to fall into place. Gun shots. A lover who had touched his mind and knew his predicament. A rebel, with or without a cause. _Dean._

Pushing up so his legs bore his weight again, heart pounding with fear, with dread, with hope, Sam reached out. _He's coming. Hide... hide behind Michael... Dean, he won't allow you to live._ He was certain now, that while Gabriel had made a promise he would have kept, if Dean knew what he was up to, nothing would stop him from trying to end Dean. Nothing. And the images he'd shown Gabriel... his anger, his jealousy had risen to new heights. There would be no reasoning with him. There hadn't been for a long time now.

*

As Gabriel walked out of the narrow stone corridor into the cavernous room, light erupted from the walls. "You!" His face was a mask of dark anger, beautiful and horrific. He pointed at Dean, focusing a jagged bolt of lightening at him, and shouting with anger as his ward got in the way and was reduced to ash. "Human. You will no longer be the bane of my existence," he said, pointing again.

*

The entire structure rocked, and Samuel knew it was Gabriel. He could taste his power in the air. The silence after told him that Michael wasn't there, or was incapacitated. He tried to mentally reach Michael, and when that failed, he tried for Dean again, deathly afraid.

The wind kicked up in the small room. Shouting, he pulled on the chains, a jagged crack forming on the ancient stone ceiling, but holding. "No. Nooo," grabbing hold of the chains, he pulled again, his eyes going pitch black.

* * *

Dean could hear the creature, whatever it was, stomping around in the darkness. The crunching of long dried bones of its previous meals being crushed under its huge feet telling the young man where it was, but he still couldn’t see it. He was shooting blind and he had no idea when or from what direction the thing might attack again. The whoosh of air his only warning and he managed to duck and jump out of the way, hearing the loud screech like nails on a chalk board multiplied by a hundred and feeling the spray of stone raining down on him telling him he barely avoided the swipe of claws.

He heard his lover’s words in his head and it was his only warning. The sudden, literally blinding, light that erupted in the room was far from welcome at the moment, but at least it managed to distract and blind the creature as well. Dean heard Gabriel’s enraged voice before the young man managed to blink the stars from his eyes. His own rage at seeing the angel that had been torturing his lover was tempered only by the realization that Gabriel wasn’t about to pull any punches this time when he saw the angel raise his hand.

Cursing, Dean scrambled up from the debris covered ground, running for cover even though he knew he wasn’t going to make it. Turns out it didn’t matter because the creature, that Dean could now see looked like some kind of giant salamander, lunged for his fleeing “meal” at the same time Gabriel let out his attack. The shock wave sent him sprawling back on the floor as the giant creature exploded into smoke and ash in a way that was actually a little anti-climatic. But Dean certainly wasn’t about to stand around and let Gabriel do the same to him.

Dean could feel Samuel’s fear, fear for him, and he didn’t hesitate drawing the colt from behind him, aiming it at the angel just as the fucker’s hand began to glow blue again. Just like in a fucking wild west showdown, Dean fired. 

* * *

Seeing the pathetic human raise the pathetic weapon at him, Gabriel gave a nasty laugh and felt the power rise inside him like a tide. Focusing everything he had, he started to let out a bolt of murderous electric energy when a bullet struck him in the chest. Instead of bouncing harmlessly off, it sank deep inside his flesh and found his internal organs. "No..." he said with disbelief, looking down at his body.

Blue light lit up every vein and artery in his body, rising to the surface of his skin, flashing, burning... and then his insides were liquefied. When he crumpled to the ground, the trium was wiped from his expression, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

*

"Dean! Dean!" Samuel shouted hoarsely, fearing for his lover. Wishing Michael would answer, hoping... hoping to God Dean hadn't come alone. Oh God, if he died... if Dean died, this would all be for nothing. Nothing. "Dean!" He tugged harder on the chains, pieces of the roof falling around him, on him, threatening to bury him.

* * *

For a few heartbeats, Dean was certain his remains were going to end up needing to be swept up with a broom. After all, what the fuck was one little bullet supposed to do against a creature that could vaporize him into a cloud of smoke with barely a flick of his wrist? Michael was right. He was foolish, cocky, arrogant... and if he died here and now who was going to save Samuel? The thought of his lover at Gabriel’s mercy for the next two hundred years, or however long Samuel’s ‘punishment’ lasted, was more terrifying than the thought of his immanent death.

A death that never happened.

Despite the terribly powerful energy that Dean could feel crackling in the room, he was still alive. It was only then that the young man realized that Gabriel’s expression had changed from an almost sadistic glee to one of utter disbelief. Dean realized his own expression almost mirrored the angel’s as he watched the bright blossom of red spreading out across Gabriel’s chest. Then Dean had to shield his eyes from the blinding light that seemed to erupt from inside the angel’s body.

By the time the light had faded and Dean dropped his hand, Gabriel was laying on the ground unmoving. Dean thought he would have felt satisfaction staring into those wide and vacant eyes... but he didn’t. He wasn’t sure what he felt, but a second later he pushed all thoughts of the angel he had killed from his mind as he pushed himself up off the ground. Sparing neither a glance or a thought more for Gabriel as he ran for the passage that the angel had emerged from. His heart beating so hard in his chest he thought it might just burst free from his ribs.

“Sam!” Dean shouted, though he froze and practically choked on his next breath when he saw his lover again for the first time. Even the dreams... visions of Sam being tortured... was nothing compared to seeing the results with his own eyes. Samuel chained and covered in blood from head to toe.

Seeing Sam fighting to free himself from the chains, the crumbling pieces of the ceiling falling down around Samuel, spurred the young man into action and he ran to his lover. Not really caring that the huge crumbling ceiling could come down at any moment. He had to get Sam out of those fucking chains before the ceiling came down on top of him!

“How the fuck do you open these!” Dean cursed in frustration when he realized there didn’t seem to be any place for a key on the cuffs. 

* * *

  
"Dean!" Unable to believe his eyes, Samuel stopped struggling and just feasted on the sight of his love... alive. He'd survived Gabriel. He was here, in the flesh, cursing up a storm, unafraid, acting the role of 'avenging angel' to the hilt. Samuel felt the crazy need to laugh warring with the need to pull Dean close, hold him tightly in his arms, prove to himself this was real, that it was no illusion, no memory he'd called up to help make the torture bearable, no daydream he was spinning out of wishes.

Was there an army of angels out there with him? Had Dean been able to sway Michael, and others? He could believe anything of his silver tongued lover, nothing seemed to stop him when he was motivated.

Dean's question brought him back to his senses. "Leave... I'll come, leave!" he commanded, looking up at the falling stone. His lover was fragile, he'd break, he'd shatter, he'd be killed. "Please... this can't kill me," he explained, but the stubborn jutting of Dean's chin told him he didn't have a prayer of being left. Letting out a deep sigh, he nodded toward the doorway. "At least wait there. This... it's forged in the same way as my sword, unbreakable. I have to pull it free free," he said, eyes burning, willing Dean to listen to him.

_Please... do not let this be for nothing. Keep yourself safe for a few moments while I get free._ There was a high risk of burying himself under rubble, and even Dean... even if he waited just outside, but he was left with no choices... no good ones, thanks to his stubborn human love. _A few minutes more of patience._ He mentally pleaded.

* * *

When Samuel finally spoke, telling him to _leave_ of all things, Dean could only stop and gape at the angel for a moment as though he’d lost his mind completely. He wasn’t just going to fucking leave! Sam had to be crazy if he thought Dean was just going to _let_ him be buried alive under a mountain of rock!

Dean shook his head. His expression hardening with determination. He was _not_ going to leave Sam! Even if it meant they’d both die here and now, at least they’d die together.

But then Sam was reassuring him that it wouldn’t kill him. Dean couldn’t help but look at Sam doubtfully. Sam looked so fucking… broken… already. Even if Sam was telling him the truth… he wouldn’t put it past the angel to lie to him about this just to get him to move out from under the falling rocks… the thought of Sam suffering even more pain.

Dean couldn’t simply ignore Sam’s pleas however. If Sam was telling the truth, if Dean stayed here and died and Sam survived his lover would never forgive himself. So the young man grudgingly nodded, even more reluctantly releasing Sam and backing away from the angel to stand in the doorway. Feeling just as helpless watching this as he had while he watched Gabriel torturing and raping his love…

“Don’t you dare leave me.” Dean found himself repeating the words he’d said, god it felt like a lifetime ago, the last time Sam had nearly been buried alive. 

* * *

Too weary to speak, Samuel brushed Dean's mind, giving him the reassurance he wanted. At the same time, he could sense Dean's desperation, his deep seated fears. Even those emotions were better than nothing... the nothing he'd had all these months. He'd gotten used to having Dean in there, touching his mind now and again, and when that had been cut off for the most part, it had been as hellish as the physical abuse.

Summoning every bit of strength that he could, eyes on his lover, he pulled hard, his muscle bulging and straining against the rock into which the chains had been embedded by Gabriel. Larger stones fell, hitting him on the shoulders, on the head, sand and pebbles raining down at the same time. The stone around the metal spike in the ceiling cracked. One more tug, using the full weight of his body, and the chain fell to the ground.

Bending over with a groan, Sam collected the lengths of chain and ran out to Dean. Closing his eyes tight, he managed to call up some robes to cover his nudity, then wrapped the chain around his elbow and shoulder a few times for ease of movement. The ancient pyramid was coming apart, and they had no time. He brushed his mouth carefully against Dean's, just the lightest touch, not wanting to get any blood or grime on him. "Where are the others?"

The look from Dean was enough to tell him. _Alone? You came alone?_. That knowledge was about enough to drive Samuel down to his knees. Disbelief. Sheer terror for Dean almost froze him in place, but the knowledge that his lover could die here pushed him into action. "Lead... let's get out," he whispered hoarsely, now fighting against becoming an emotional wreck.

He followed Dean, stumbling a little though his injuries would heal... much faster once he was outside of Gabriel's control. He allowed white light to shine from his alabaster body, to light the way in the dark. Just when he was about to ask about the archangel, they entered a stone chamber and he saw the body. Before passing it, he dropped down to his knees, and closed Gabriel's eyes. Saying a quick prayer, he got up, his eyes meeting belligerent greens.

* * *

It was so damned hard to stay back. Watching… fucking helpless… as more rocks, larger rocks, began to fall down around and on Samuel. Rocks large enough that if they’d hit _him_ they would have broken his bones, caved in his skull, if they’d fallen on him. It wouldn’t hurt Samuel, wouldn’t kill him… Dean had to repeat that over and over in his mind, forcing himself to believe it. Refusing to think about what could happen if the entire ceiling came down on top of his lover before Sam could pull the chain free…

Finally the rock around the chain gave and it was all Dean could do not to run towards Samuel, to wait for the angel to come to him. As soon as Sam was within his reach, he grabbed onto the angel, supporting him, not giving a rats ass about the blood and grime covering him. The quick kiss Samuel gave him not nearly enough, but no matter how desperately he wanted it to continue he knew they couldn’t stay here. The whole structure was shaking now, threatening to fall on top of them.

When Sam asked him where the ‘others’ were, Dean wasn’t sure how to answer. Hell, there wasn’t even time to answer. He could feel Sam’s panic when he realized, without Dean having to say anything, that he’d come alone. Dean couldn’t even address that either, he could only nod at Sam’s ‘suggestion’ that he lead them out of here.

Dean supported his lover as they made their way as quickly as possible out of the crumbling ancient structure, but then Sam suddenly stopped. Dean could only watch, the anger that he hadn’t had time to feel when he’d killed the angel suddenly rushing back full force seeing Sam kneeling beside him… _praying_ for the bastard that had tortured him all these months. The satisfaction that had escaped him before was now fully present, he was very glad that the angel was dead. Gabriel didn’t fucking deserve such consideration, especially from Sam.

The young man said nothing however when Sam’s eyes met his again, he simply grabbed Sam and started leading him out the way he’d come in, faster now as the floor beneath them shook. Large bolder sized pieces of wall and ceiling coming down faster and faster. Dean had almost forgotten about the barrier, the one that Michael said he couldn’t pass through, until they reached the spot where the young man remembered it being. Thankfully it was no longer there, gone now that Gabriel was dead, and he urged Sam on faster. Practically running now as fast as Sam could handle.

When they finally reached the mouth of the cave, the sight of the bright starry night beyond never looked so damned good. 

* * *

With Dean's help, Samuel made it outside and then collapsed onto the ground, rolling over onto his back and looking up. "Free." He didn't know if he was asking, if he was stating a fact. His mind was swimming with possibilities and questions. How had Dean managed this... alone. How had he killed Gabriel. What would be the consequences? But even as those serious questions stormed through his mind, he reached out for Dean.

When he lover dropped down next to him, Samuel ran his hand lightly over his face, pulling back when Dean would have kissed him. _I want to wash him, and the grime off first._ He managed a smile, and continued his exploration of every plane of Dean's face. In his eyes, Sam could see the anguish from months of loneliness, he didn't even have to read it in his mind. Dean's face was drawn and pale. There were shadows under his eyes. He looked... he was a reflection of what Samuel felt like in those early days when Dean had left him in the heat of anger.

He licked his lips, catching a tear that had gathered in the corner of Dean's eye. "I'm sorry. For not being here. For you." He swallowed, tried to think. "We have to get away from here. Find a safe place, not... not my home. First... I need to get my sword... No, safe place first, then I'll retrieve it," he decided, though he was having trouble thinking clearly. One thing he was certain of was that he did not want to expose Dean to anymore danger.

* * *

Dean collapsed down next to Samuel when the angel’s strength just seemed to give out, and he would have been terrified by that, except for the look on his lover’s face when Sam touched him. Free… Samuel was free… he’d done it… he’d saved Sam… He felt tears burning in his eyes before he could stop them and he honestly wasn’t sure if he was shaking, if Sam was, or if the ground itself was trembling from the collapsing pyramid.

Overwhelmed… yeah, that didn’t begin to cover it.

He was more than a little surprised when he went to kiss Samuel however, needing that vital touch, that vital proof that this was real so damned badly, and the angel pulled away from him. Dean wanted to protest that he didn’t give a damn about the blood or grime or… anything else… he just wanted to touch and love Samuel.

But for months, for _months_ Sam had been imprisoned, unable to refuse what Gabriel had tried to do to him… Dean certainly wasn’t going to protest or force Sam to do anything he didn’t want to. No matter how much Dean might want it, he could wait. Instead he gave his lover a shaky smile and nod, turning his face into Sam’s gentle caressing fingers and kissing them instead.

At Samuel’s apology, Dean’s eyes fairly snapped back to the angel’s. Narrowed slightly.

“Don’t you dare apologize to me for any of this. Not when it was my fault…” Dean’s voice broke a little, his words catching in his throat like broken glass. His fault… all his fault… Even Michael had said so. If he’d never lived, if Samuel had never saved him from hell, Sam would have never been hurt this way. Gabriel… even if the angel had been a complete bastard to him, he had loved Sam once, he never would have done those things to Samuel if he hadn’t seen them together… and now Dean had promised himself to Cain…

Dean pushed those thoughts down far away, he simply couldn’t deal with them now, and he didn’t want them accidentally leaking over their bond to Sam either. When Sam said they needed to leave, go somewhere safe, Dean nodded.

“I have your sword. I brought it with me.” Dean told the angel, unbuckling the holster from his back and handing over the blade wrapped in bed sheets to his lover. He’d almost forgotten about it. He was glad he’d thought to bring it with him.

* * *

"Shshsh, let's not play the fault game. This is too precious a moment for that," Samuel told him, smiling gently as he moved to sit up.

He was more than a little surprised that Dean had his sword. Cocking his head, he saw it was wrapped up, that his lover had heeded his warning and not touched it. This moment would never have come if he hadn't... "Dean Winchester, you are nothing short of a miracle, and don't you _dare_ contradict me. Not after what you did here, and not when you managed to bring me the one thing I need."

Taking the sword by its hilt, Sam twisted his wrist around a few times, letting the flaps of cloth fall off to reveal the shiny metal. It glinted under the moonlight, pure white. Using it, he pushed himself up and took a few breaths. He gathered his strength, which was quickly rushing back to him, now that he was outside, and markings on the prison walls no longer drained his energies. Even the blood that had been caked on his body was disappearing.

He reached his hand out to Dean. "I can fly us now."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Samuel dropped down onto the balcony of a turret, on a building which had four large towers. It was located in New England and was an old hotel that had been build in the baronial style, like a castle. In recent years, it had been converted to condominiums, and Samuel had one of the three story towers to himself. The space wasn't very large. The first floor was the livingroom and kitchen area, the spiral stairs took you to the second story where there was a single large bedroom, and then there was a library on the top floor, where the balcony was located.

The wind rustled through the trees, and the doors opened. Both men walked inside, and Samuel closed them behind him. His books. A fireplace. A desk, and soft sofas... And here he'd thought he was not attached to material things. Perhaps he was not, but he could appreciate them when he contrasted them to cold stone surroundings.

"I'm going to do something now... angel proof this place. You must promise me that you will _never_ use it against me," Samuel said, speaking softly, but his eyes intense, face grim. It was something he'd never taught Dean, for fear that Dean would hide again, and make it even more difficult to locate him, than he had the last time.

Taking his sword, he sliced his forearm. From the desk, he grabbed a pen, and walked back to the window. Dipping the pen into his dripping blood, he started to write on the window, ancient words in angel script. "Angel proofing," he explained.

Ten minutes later, he'd put the symbols on each floor of the house, and they were on the second level, in the bedroom.

"I'll be in the shower. Give me five minutes, then join me?" Samuel's gaze swept over his lover's face. "So I can greet you properly. Then we can plan the rest of our lives." It wouldn't be simple, but it could be done. They could stay in hiding and live their lives, together, the way they were meant to be.

* * *

Everything was happening so quickly. Rushing past him the same way the ground below them had sped past while Samuel had flown them here. It figured, Dean supposed, in a sick twist of irony. That the months he’d spent without Samuel, his lover imprisoned, tortured, and nothing Dean could do about it, had dragged by like an eternity. Now that Samuel was safe and they were together again… now that Dean had only three days before he had to pay his due for the deal he’d made, that everything was happening so fast.

Despite Sam’s words, the angel’s insistence that they not talk about blame at a time like this, Dean couldn’t stop thinking about it. He was overjoyed that Samuel was safe now, that he had managed to rescue the angel, and his lover was free… but that did not undo the pain and suffering that Samuel had endured because of him. What would the angel say when Dean finally told him the price he’d paid for Sam’s freedom?

Samuel had called him a miracle… Dean certainly did not feel anything of the sort. If anything, he felt like a curse.

He’d watched as Sam moved around the space that would be their home… for the next three days at least. Dean hadn’t known Samuel had this place, and he could only hope that the other angels didn’t know of it either. Though Michael might… Dean wondered exactly what the symbols Sam was drawing in blood actually meant. What did they do? The young hunter committed them to memory anyway. Maybe he would ask Sam later… if he had the time…

Dean followed his lover upstairs to the bedroom, managing a small smile and nod when Sam said he was going to take a shower and that he should join him. Though the young man felt his heart constrict painfully at the same time he managed to keep it from his face and out of his thoughts filtering towards Samuel. He watched the angel go, then collapsed heavily on the bed, hanging his head in his hands.

The weight of the colt tucked into the back of his pants suddenly felt like a noose around his throat. He didn’t regret what he’d done. The deal he’d made. If he hadn’t made the deal then Samuel would not be with him now. Sam would still be imprisoned, he would still be enduring torture, and in unimaginable pain. That thought was unbearable to Dean and he knew his life was a small price to pay for Sam’s freedom… but he knew the angel would not think so.

He knew he had to tell Samuel. He couldn’t just disappear and Sam not know why, he just… didn’t know how. He couldn’t… not yet… To say that Sam wouldn’t take it well would be the understatement of the century and… Dean just wanted one day, hell even a few hours for everything to be perfect. To savor the moment. For them to be happy, together… after so long apart was that too much to ask?

Dean scrubbed his hands over his face and stood. He took the colt and placed it carefully on the nightstand, then proceeded to strip off the rest of his weapons, armor, and clothes. It had been five minutes. Dean headed into the bathroom to be with his love. 

* * *

Samuel stood still for a few minutes as the scalding hot water poured over him, burning his flesh and making his skin go too pink. He wanted all evidence of Gabriel's touches gone. Because of his nature, each time he'd healed between the torturous sessions with the archangel, his body had sloughed off all impurities, but psychologically... he needed the purification by water.

Memories of Gabriel sweating over him, making his demands, wanting to be inside him but mercifully at least failing in that... Sam clenched his jaw. Purifying his mind would be a lot more difficult, but he didn't want this to affect Dean. He would make sure it did not.

Taking the soap, he lathered his hands and scrubbed every inch of his skin... twice. Out there, in the other room, was his past and his future. His lover, his life. The man who'd been prepared to sacrifice his own life to get him out of Gabriel's clutches, and had done it _alone._ It was unfathomable. It was... pure love, the strongest type... against the rules or not.

Hearing the door open, he adjusted the water temperature and pushed the glass shower door aside, eyes feasting on a sight he thought he would never see again. "Dean..." he put his hand out, taking Dean's and pulling hims inside, up hard against his body, mouth descending hungrily over his lover's. Their mouths slid together, Samuel pushing his tongue inside, tangling it immediately with Dean's, groaning softly. _This is home. You are home, my home._

He swept his tongue across the roof of Dean's mouth, then explored every corner, one hand moving up to cup the back of Dean's head as he held him in place and worked his mouth back and forth, tasting, remembering, loving. With each slide of his body against Dean, Sam got hard... needing the connection that had been all theirs. Funny how Gabriel hadn't been able to take that way from him... never been with him like that.

He kissed Dean's throat, whispering words of undying love. He searched his body, so familiar, almost like an extension of is own. He was bending down onto his knees, his mouth slipping downward to Dean's belly as his hands swept over Dean's arms shoulders and arms, pulling them apart, pressing them against the tile away from Dean's body as Sam ran his palms toward Dean's wrists and suddenly stopped.

Shock reverberated through the angel as he felt the puckered skin. Pulling his head back, he inspected. "How? How could you be so brave... to come get me... and... and this?" he demanded, anguish pushing away every other emotion. "I'd rather die a thousand deaths Dean, I'd rather be there in Gabriel's clutches, I swear I would... then to have your soul condemned to hell." Anger, disappointment, tears, fear for the one he loved.... did he not understand that redemption was a long road, and that this slip up took them back to day one. Leaning his forehead against Dean's belly, he tried... tried to understand... tried to rein in his emotions.

* * *

Dean opened the door to the bathroom and he stopped. For a moment he could only stand there in the doorway staring at the perfection before him. Samuel… his lover… his beautiful lover… his love. Oh god, he never thought he would see this again, have this again. It seemed like a dream… he was afraid to move, to even breathe, afraid the dream would shatter. Afraid he would wake up and be alone again…

But then Samuel opened the shower door, said his name, held out his hand, and Dean knew it was real. He went to the angel and put his hand in Samuel’s, letting his lover guide him inside, and suddenly it was all perfect. Dean didn’t care about the past or the future as Samuel held him, kissed him, loved him. He returned the angel’s kiss just as desperately, clung to Sam with just as much need. Crushing his lips to the angel’s, holding him tight enough to bruise, and he didn’t care.

_I love you. I love you so damned much._

Dean let the angel guide him, just as the first time. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, inviting more of Sam’s kisses. He let Sam push him back against the smooth tiled wall. Moaning and whispering words of encouragement, need, and love.

_Yes. God yes._

He ran his fingers through Sam’s wet hair, holding the angel close as his lover kissed his way down his stomach. Though he let the angel take his hands and guide his hands back to the wall, trusting completely…

Then he felt Sam’s fingers move down his arms and pause at his wrists. His lover’s fingers guiding over the fresh scars that had not had time to heal completely yet. Dean felt his throat close as he opened his eyes and looked down into his lover’s heartbroken eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that.” Dean said with just as much emotion, just as seriously, and with just as much conviction. “I love you. I thought… you were in hell. I only wanted to be with you, I didn’t care… I don’t care what happens to me… I needed to save you…”

* * *

Rebellious to the core. Passionate... human... he did not see the error of his ways, that was clear to Samuel, even as his heart shattered into pieces. How was he supposed to keep him... his ward... his lover safe, here and into eternity, if he gave up eternity again and again? "Save my _body_ , at the cost of your _soul?_ That is not a fair trade Dean."

Samuel's voice broke. He took a breath. "I want you to care about what happens to you. I saved you. I pulled you out of hell. I don't want to... I cannot lose you to it again, and again," he was shaking with emotion, eyes darkening, the water from the shower blowing away from them. "Do you understand, Dean?" His hand slipped up his lover's body, to cover his heart. "Flesh gets old... dies... injuries heal or kill you. Eternity... is forever, and your soul... it is more precious to me, than anything... anything. Some would say that is blasphemy... but it is the truth."

He wasn't aware of it, but he had Dean pressed against the tile and wasn't allowing him room to leave. "I am the opposit of hell, I am the opposite of demons, I need you to choose me... choose my Father, over them, every time Dean. Every time, no matter the cost. It is the _only_ thing I ask of you. Please..."

* * *

Dean simply couldn’t stand looking into Sam’s eyes anymore, they were so full of pain, pain he had caused, and knowing he would only cause the angel even more he had to look away. It was becoming obvious that he couldn’t even have this. One moment to be happy with Samuel… not one moment… because he couldn’t give his lover what he was asking. He supposed it was a fitting punishment. For all the pain he had caused, and was going to cause, the one he loved.

He didn’t protest as Sam pinned him even more firmly against the wet shower wall. Even when he couldn’t move. Even when his chest began to ache a little from the pressure of Samuel’s hand against his ribs. The slight discomfort was nothing compared to the pain in his heart though.

“My soul is worthless. It’s always been worthless. I belong in hell. You never should have rescued me from it. All the pain you went through… what happened to Gabriel… none of it would have happened if I’d died like I should have back in the asylum.” Dean swallowed hard, trying to force down the pain that tried to choke off his words, leaving them unsaid. But he had to say them. He owed Samuel that much.

“My arrogance, my selfishness… caused all of this… Michael was right. I am to blame. No one else… and there’s no way I can ever make it right. I have no choice anymore. I… made a deal with a demon. That’s how I was able to get to you and the gun... My soul was worthless to trade with because it was already bound for hell. So I gave him my body instead. In three days… it will belong to Cain.” 

* * *

Each time Dean called his soul worthless, each time he claimed it would have been better if he'd died, Samuel flinched. _Your words... if you believe them... then you betray everything we are to each other. I would do it again, and again for five minutes of what we had... what we have. It is worth it, to me. It's a wondrous gift. If you had died... I'd never know what it is to live._ If not for the water, hot tears would be streaming down Samuel's cheeks. This wasn't the reunion he had imagined.

Had he been arrogant? Had he really thought he'd _fixed_ Dean? His love wasn't enough to do that, he'd been fooling himself. Sure there had been great strides. Dean was more confident. He was hunting and righting his wrongs, gaining redemption at a much faster pace than he would, but for his self sacrificing ways. But inside... he still felt worthless, he was still the boy Samuel had found in the asylum, blaming himself for everything that happened, and wanting to die... not caring where he went.

About to pull his lover into his arms, Samuel froze as Dean revealed what he'd done. "Cain." The blast of cold air inside the shower froze the water. The ramifications of Dean's actions quickly sifted through Sam's mind. Dean had again condemned his soul, and now his body too. And not just to any demon, to Samuel's nemesis. "Then I am dead. Because I will _not_ fight him in your body." He pronounced the obvious... Cain's plan... everything he'd warned Dean against.

Failure was common to angels, when dealing with humans. But this was personal... a personal failure, a crushing blow. It was an end, worse than any Gabriel could have heaped on him. Cold and numb as the the frozen water, he hardly noticed the ice shattering around him, or the glass... when he walked right through the shower enclosure, rivulets of his blood leaving trails on the stark white tile as he walked out of the bathroom.

* * *

Betrayal…

Maybe he had betrayed Samuel, from the very beginning. When the angel had first told him ‘no’ and Dean had pushed. Using everything in his power to get what he’d wanted, Samuel… he had betrayed the angel. If he’d only listened…

Michael was right. Gabriel was right. Samuel… was right. It hurt to hear. Hearing it from Michael had been bad enough but hearing it from Samuel… It hurt more than he’d ever imagined. But it was no less than what he deserved.

Dean closed his eyes against the tears that tried to escape him, even if they would have been masked by the shower. Of course he felt the icy cold surround him, making him shiver, in respond to Samuel’s emotions. His pain… his anger…

No less than what he deserved, Dean reminded himself over and over, however that did not stop the sob that welled up in his throat when he felt the angel’s hands leave him. When he heard the shattering of glass and when Samuel… left him… it broke from him. Seemed to shake him to the core, as his legs gave out beneath him, and he slid down the wall. He crumbled both physically and emotionally amid shards of ice and glass, not really caring how they cut him.

If flesh didn’t matter, then why did Samuel care what happened to his body once Cain took it? Dean almost wanted to ask but he had put his lover through enough pain. He would never ask Samuel to kill him, even if it was only his body he was destroying. Besides, he wouldn’t have to. The other angels would be searching for him soon enough, they’d find him, sooner if he gave them some help. They would want revenge on him for killing Gabriel. They would come to kill him. Maybe in the process they could kill Cain as well.

Dean forced his eyes open and swallowed hard. Forced himself to stand and turn off the lukewarm shower water, wincing a little at the glass that cut his feet when he got out, but not really caring. Following the trail of blood already there into the other room.

However when he entered the bedroom he didn’t look up from the floor. Didn’t look at Samuel as he bent to gather up his clothes and pulled them back on even though he hadn’t dried off. He didn’t say anything as he made his way as quietly as he could back downstairs so he wouldn’t… disturb… the angel with his presence. He wanted to say… something… but ‘sorry’ just didn’t seem to cut it right now.

Maybe he should leave… he didn’t want to leave… Samuel hadn’t told him to go… but the angel certainly didn’t seem to want him there either. 

* * *

Samuel had a towel wrapped around his waist as he stood looking out the window. Even when he heard Dean walk in, take his clothes and take his leave, he didn't turn or speak. He was deep in mediation, trying to bring sense to the situation which even in his strangest and worst nightmares, he had not seen coming.

His body started to obtrude pieces of glass that had been lodged in him, and the cuts were started to heal and close. However, the invisible wound in his heart bled invisible blood, and would not heal as easily. Once he'd considered himself an unbreakable force, now he knew only too well what ... or rather who... his achilles heel was. A man with brilliant green eyes, a mouth that sometimes belonged on a sailor, brave... sometimes to the point of foolishness, generous but unwittingly selfish at the same time, one who hated and feared evil and yet dealt with it, a youth too sure of himself, and yet equally sure of his lack of worth at the same time, one who made spur of the moment decisions based upon what his heart told him, not his brain... flawed.

_In short... he was human._

The ache within Samuel sharpened. Wasn't he the angel who loved humanity because of its imperfections, because of... not in spite of the scars? Wasn't that precisely why he had fallen for one Dean Winchester?

As things became more clear to the angel, it occurred to him that Dean might try to leave. With a single thought, a cold wind swept through the multi-story townhouse, shutters slamming down over the windows, the door sealing and suddenly impenetrable, every opening to the house covered if not by man made structures, than by an angel's seal. Angel's wouldn't find them because of his markings. Now Cain couldn't find them either.

Donning his angel's robes and allowing his wings to unfurl... now snow white due to the penance he'd endured, he strode the stairs and walked down into the living room, his gaze seeing Dean's. "I won't give you up to him. I can't." His jaw pulsed, his eyes darkening as they tracked his lover. "No more than you could give me up to Gabriel."

* * *

The sudden slamming of the shudders over the windows startled Dean out of his thoughts, and he knew he didn’t have a choice anymore. A part of him wanted to feel relieved that apparently Sam didn’t want him to leave after all… but another part of him evilly spoke up that maybe he simply hadn’t left fast enough. That Sam’s attempt had been to lock him out, not to keep him here.

With nothing left to do, Dean sighed heavily and sat down on the couch. His elbows resting on his knees, staring at his hands, waiting… He didn’t have to wait as long as he’d expected, and the young man honestly wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Or if there was even a difference anymore.

Dean glanced up briefly when he heard Sam come down the stairs. The sight of the angel looking… well… like an angel had emotion welling up in the young man’s throat again threatening to choke him. It was so blessedly different from the way he had been forced to see Samuel for the last three months, but seeing the angel standing in front of him looking so… perfect… so pure…

By comparison Dean felt as twisted, ugly, and deformed as any demon. Michael’s words came back to haunt him, as did Gabriel’s, and the demon Azazel’s, and Dean’s gaze fell back to the floor in shame. He could not hide the evil thing that he was anymore than demons could hide their true appearance from him. Maybe that was the real reason he could always see them when other humans couldn’t. Because he was just like them…

“What happens when I break my end of the deal?” Dean finally asked softly, not looking up from the floor. He wasn’t really arguing with the angel, Dean simply did not have that in him right now, he genuinely didn’t know. 

* * *

“You won’t.”

The words hung between them.

As the silence dragged on, Sam refined the plan in his mind. It would work, it made sense and it would work. Cain would not see this trap, it would feed into his beliefs that he understood humans, knew what made them tick. He’d touched Dean’s mind, had been there for a while. He would have seen that Dean would do anything for his lover, and that he was one to meet his end of bargains. Otherwise, why wouldn’t Cain have gone with him?

“Dean?” He waited for his love to look up. “For twenty four hours after you debt is called, we will let him think you have disappeared and are in hiding. Here... he will not sense your presence, not until we unseal this place,” he nodded, moving closer, his gaze glued to Dean’s face. He’d missed him so much, what was one more hurdle?

“We will make him think that you tried to meet your end of the bargain, but I prevented you. The first opportunity you got, you trapped me in a ring of holy oil... like a devil’s trap,” he explained, “and unsealed the house.” He took a breath. “He will come to collect your body and you will distract him... delay him. The ring of fire won't hold me because it won't be holy oil, and I will be there to send him to a permanent death. My sword will be hidden where I can get to it. I'll attack him when he is at his weakest... trying to abandon his body for yours."

Samuel came to his knees next to Dean and looked up into his face. "This... this plan is as dangerous as the last one you volunteered for. That one didn't go off as planned. There's a good chance..." He didn't say the words, didn't want to face the fact that he could lose Dean all over again.

* * *

He wouldn’t? Dean couldn’t help but be a little surprised by the angel’s response. But Sam had said he wouldn’t give him up… Not that he wanted Samuel to try to get him out of his deal. Alright, that was a lie, he did. But he supposed he couldn’t expect the angel to try to clean up his mess for him. Dean had gotten himself into this of his own free will. He’d made the deal to save Samuel, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat if he had to. He guessed he just… hadn’t expected Sam to give up on him so easily.

Why shouldn’t Sam give up on him? Give him up… he’d caused the angel nothing but pain, after all, again and again…

When Samuel said his name, Dean did his best to brace himself. Trying not to show his fear and grief, trying to put on a brave front for the angel when he met Sam’s eyes. It was the least he could do. Not to make this any harder for Samuel. Though he knew he failed when he finally lifted his face to the angel.

Twenty four hours? Let Cain come here to… collect him… distract him? Sam was going to try to kill Cain? But… what if he couldn’t ‘distract’ Cain? What if Cain just took his body before Sam could do anything? What if Cain just killed Samuel? Samuel didn’t have to finish his sentence. He understood. There was a good chance one or both of them would be killed doing this. But what else could he do besides hand himself over to Cain? He was dead either way.

Dean had no other ideas, no other plans, no other hope… at least this way there was the slim chance of taking out Cain. Taking him out before he could use his body to kill more people.

“Alright.” Dean finally answered with a small nod. 

* * *

“Just alright?” Samuel cocked his head, searching Dean’s face, trying to filter through his thoughts and emotions. Usually, Dean was a lot more vocal, anxious to give his two cents, and now... now when his life hanged in balance, he’d gone silent.

“There’s one other alternative, you know.” The angel took a deep breath. “We could keep you here for all time. So long as the place is sealed, he won’t ever find you.” Taking a few steps, Samuel sank down on the chair facing Dean, his gaze never leaving his lover’s eyes. He was more than aware that Dean had been confined for years, that this might seem the same. “I’d be here with you. I’d bring anything you want,” leaning forward, he stroked Dean’s face. “Anything, Dean. We could play it safe... be safe.”

_Whatever you want. You know... you should know I only want your happiness._   


* * *

Dean wasn’t sure what else Sam expected him to say. For once, he would just shut up and do what the angel said, without question. As Michael had reminded him, not listening to Sam is why all this had happened in the first place.

He hadn’t listened when Sam had tried to refuse him time and time again, even when Sam had told him it was a sin, and dangerous for them to be together. He’d gone behind Sam’s back, offering himself up as bait for Cain, and he nearly ended up getting possessed by the bastard and nearly getting Sam killed in the process. He hadn’t listened to Sam when the angel had told him it was too dangerous to do anything in Gabriel’s home, and then…

When Sam mentioned an ‘alternative’ Dean frowned a little. What other alternative? Hiding… for the rest of his life. Never leaving this house, ever. Staying nice and ‘safe’ in a nice plush cage. Living in fear the rest of his life of Cain, or the other angels who wanted him dead too because he’d killed Gabriel, would find him, or worse, find Sam when the angel left to get him food or whatever. Let’s not forget they would also be leaving Cain out there to do whatever he wanted unchecked. Who knew how many people would die? Or what Cain would do if he backed out on his deal…

Dean couldn’t help leaning into Sam’s touch before he could stop himself. Finally he shook his head slowly.

“We’re never going to be safe as long as he’s alive. No one will.” Dean said softly. 

* * *

Samuel knew Dean was right. Maybe he could keep Dean safe for a long time, but there was always the chance of discovery. More importantly, as Dean put it so simply... no one would be safe with Cain around.

The pressing need to destroy the fallen angel before he destroyed mankind was what had caused Dean to volunteer to play the bait in trapping Cain, and it was what forced Samuel to allow Dean to do so. That need... that fear for the world... it was still out there. And just as before, Dean was their one best chance to catch Cain.

"You're brave, and honorable, and loyal, and giving... and you ... you can't even see it," Samuel said, looking into Dean's eyes. "You deserve more, better than what life has handed to you. Yes, you haven't always made the right choices, but that it what makes you beautiful... what makes you 'man.'"

Sliding his hand down to Dean's hip, and bringing his other hand to his human's other hip, Samuel started to draw him close. "We have four days. Four days for you to see yourself through my eyes, four days to shut the world out and love each other, let's not waste it, Dean. I've missed you so much. Need you so much," his voice broke.

Arms straining only slightly, he lifted and pulled Dean over his lap, straddling his thighs as he sat on the chair. "Do you remember that day?" Sam asked, mentally showing him the image of Dean straddling him in his apartment, showing him how much Dean had made him ache and need, how sweet the agony had been. "Need you ten times more today... a hundred," he said, slanting his mouth over Dean's and running his hands down to his lower back to pull him up harder against him.

* * *

Brave, honorable, loyal, giving... no, Dean couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see any of those things, because he knew they weren’t true. He was selfish, stubborn, arrogant, foolish... He had caused Samuel so much pain. So much... he could never atone for all the ways he’d wronged the angel. Even if he had the rest of his life to try instead of only four days, it would never make up for all the suffering Dean had caused the one he loved... the pain he might still cause Sam...

Samuel was right about one thing. Dean had made plenty of wrong choices during his life. Choices that had damned himself... choices that had nearly damned Samuel as well... and maybe he was still selfish, utterly and completely selfish, because he could not regret this one. The one that had set this all into motion. When he decided, in his heart and his soul, that he loved Samuel more than anything, that he needed Sam more than anything... and he’d let nothing stop him from loving the angel. Not even Samuel himself.

The angel drew him so easily from his seat on the couch into Samuel’s lap, and Dean went willingly. His arms slipping around Sam’s neck as he settled comfortably straddling his lover’s thighs, and of course Dean remembered. That night when he’d come home from his first day of working at Bobby’s garage. He’d been so damned cocky. So damned sure of himself. So damned persistent... walking right into their apartment and straddling Samuel in the chair, just like this. Plastering himself to the angel as he kissed Sam breathless.

Dean groaned, feeling Samuel’s need wash over him over their bond, perfectly echoing his own need, and he met his lover’s lips hungrily. He tightened his arms around Samuel’s shoulders as their tongues twined, moaning as Sam pulled him even closer. His cock hardening in his jeans as he rubbed his crotch boldly against the firm planes of his lover's stomach.

_Love you. Need you. So much... Samuel..._   


* * *

Samuel loved the way Dean never hesitated, the way he fucked up against his barely covered stomach, his robes easily pushed to one side. The rough material of Dean’s jeans made Sam’s skin more sensitive, as he moved against him, imprinting him with his frame.

He cupped Dean’s ass with one hand, and his head with the other, his forearm pressing down on Dean’s back, pulling Dean as close as he could, kissing him with the hunger of a man who thought he would never get a second chance. Never see Dean again. Never hold him. Never hear his husky voice, or see the mischief in his eyes, never make love with him him, never be inside him so deep they were as one, body, soul and mind...

A tidal wave of need swept over him, he didn’t know if it was his or Dean’s... and it didn’t matter. Sliding both his hands under Dean’s shirt, he pulled it up, over his head, tossing it onto the couch. His heated gaze traveled down the length of Dean’s sun-kissed chest, lingering over the bulge in his pants, then traveling back up. “Want you... need you, Dean,” he said, lifting him up one more time, and lowering him onto the couch.

Kneeling on the ground, next to the sofa, Samuel kissed Dean sideways, then moved his mouth down his body, over his throat and his chest. He smoothed his hands over his abs, one hand working on the button of his jeans, the other sliding inside to cup him. Lifting his head, he locked gazes with his lover as he squeezed and stroked his hard pulsing erection, a groan breaking from him as he sensed Dean’s pleasure, his desires and immediately started to touch Dean the way he wanted. 

* * *

Here, like this, with Samuel holding him, kissing him, loving him, so perfectly, so completely, it was easy to forget everything else but the desperate need and love flowing between them. It was like the entire rest of the world ceased to exist and nothing else mattered but the way his lover’s fingers caressed him, held him so tightly, never letting him go. Never again…

Dean moaned at the feeling of Samuel’s fingers pushing up underneath his shirt and he reluctantly broke their kiss with a gasp, lifting up his arms to let the angel pull off the material over his head. Dean’s arms were back around his lover the instant the shirt was tossed away, clinging to Sam as the angel picked him up and Samuel set him down on the couch. He almost didn’t want to let his lover go, but he allowed the angel to lay him back, and Dean relaxed against the cushions. Feeling the heat of his lover’s gaze caressing him as he waited. Whatever Sam wanted, Dean would give him willingly, gladly.

He tilted his head back and parted his lips eagerly for Samuel’s kiss, moaning and arching beneath his lover’s hands and then mouth as the angel kissed down his chest. Dean’s fingers found their way into Samuel’s hair, caressing and clenching a little as his lover searched out ever sensitive spot on him with lips and tongue.

“Oh god, yes…” Dean panted when he felt his lover’s hands undo the button on his jeans and slide inside. The young man’s hips lifting wantonly off of the couch when the angel cupped his erection, his dick twitching and throbbing eagerly against Samuel’s palm. Dean bit his lip and groaned at the feeling of his lover’s fingers stroking him, so damned good, he hadn’t been touched in so long. He hadn’t even touched himself since Sam had been taken away from him. His hips jerked up as he thrust into his lover’s hold, moaning Samuel’s name. 

* * *

  
_You waited. For me?_ Samuel caught his thought and was astounded, humbled... elated. The possessiveness he felt over Dean was definitely unangelic, he was aware of that. And he recalled only too well the bouts of jealousy, the disappointment he'd felt that someone else... others had touched Dean during that black period of time when Dean had left him and prostituted himself. _You're still a mystery. Every time I think I have you figured, you show me a new facet. Right... I'll stop talking_

Barely hanging on to a smile, Samuel stroked Dean, remembering, memorizing again the thickness and length... feel of Dean's hard, throbbing cock in his fist. His eyes never left Dean's face. Each time Dean gasped, or licked his lips, or arched his neck and made a sound of pleasure, each time his eyes almost closed as if he was having trouble keeping them open, Sam's body reacted, hardened, wound up just a little tighter. _Imagining you, thinking about this, about all we had... it kept me sane._

Unable to resist, Sam slanted his mouth over Dean's, licking his way inside, stroking his pallet and his tongue. The sudden sharp rush of lust flowing through him had Sam sucking Dean's tongue into his mouth, hard. Moaning with need, wanting so badly to be on top of his writhing lover, he used his free hand to start freeing himself of his robe. Images of his body sliding over Dean's, of their hard cocks rubbing, tantalizing, inflaming each others' need heated and thickened the angel's blood.

He shared his thoughts and desires as he kissed Dean fiercly, claiming him ... wanting him so bad it took all of his control to keep his knees planted on the floor. This was not going to be a rushed event, even if it killed him.

Breaking the kiss, he whispered words of love, and moved back down Dean's body to replace his hand with his mouth. As he wrapped his lips around Dean's cock, he cupped his balls and sqeezed lightly, his thumb pressing that sensitive spot between Dean's sack and the base of his cock. He moaned and hummed around Dean, moving his mouth up

* * *

Dean couldn’t believe that Samuel was so surprised that he had waited for him, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about that. Did the angel think that Dean could have simply forgotten him so easily? Did Sam think that Dean would simply go out and find another or go slutting around with many others? Did the angel think that a few months, or even the rest of his lifetime, would be enough for Dean to simply forget him?

It hurt more than a little that Samuel had so little faith in his commitment to his lover, but Dean refused to let that hurt ruin this moment. It didn’t matter now. They were together, that was all that mattered. If he had to prove to Sam all over again who he wanted, who he would always want forever, then Dean would do it gladly.

_I told you. I want no one but you._ Dean replied, his eyes locked to Samuel’s as he moaned and writhed under the angel’s ministrations.

Sam’s words that only their memories together had kept his lover sane brought tears to Dean’s eyes. He wished he could say the same thing. That remembering what they’d had brought him comfort during Samuel’s absence, but he would be lying. Remembering what he’d had, what they’d lost, had nearly driven him mad. But only because he’d truly believed at the time that he would never have it again.

Now that he had this again, he would not give it up, would not give Samuel up, for anything. He would never lose Sam again. Never.

Dean moaned into his lover’s mouth and clutched at the angel as Samuel kissed him hard, trying to draw him closer. Always closer. He saw the images in his lover’s mind of what Samuel wanted to do and he couldn’t help but moan louder.

_Yes, oh god, Samuel. Yes!_ He thought even as he cried out in protest as his lover’s mouth left his, he didn’t want the kiss to end. But he couldn’t help but cry out again, this time in pleasure, when Samuel’s mouth took in his cock instead. Causing Dean to buck hard up, eagerly seeking out more of that slick hot heat. His fingers clutching in Samuel’s hair as the angel made love to his cock, moaning around him, and Dean’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He spread his legs as wide as he could with his pants still confining him, inviting more of his lover’s touch. 

* * *

Sam's fingers curled around the waist band of the jeans cutting into Dean's thighs. Slowly, he eased the jeans down, his mouth and other hand still working Dean's cock. His lover's flesh was hard, like velvet covered steel, hot and wet... pulsing in his mouth. He sucked Dean's crown, played with it with his tongue, resisting the tugging on his hair... refusing to give Dean everything just yet. He wanted to savor this moment, to commit it to memory.

He loved the way Dean squirmed, the way he opened his legs up as far as he could, inviting him with his body. Loved the way he wasn't ashamed of any of his reaction, and allowed Sam to see them. Pulling off, Sam licked around Dean's now flushed and swollen shaft, then took his balls in his mouth, sucking hard as he pulled off, and went back to Dean's cock. This time he took all of Dean inside, let him push his head down, opening his throat up and swallowing round Dean.

Sucking hard, his cheeks hallowing out, Samuel started to move up and down, giving Dean what he needed... what he knew his lover wanted so badly. _You know I love your spirit, your very soul. But dear God above, right now I... I want your body... I..._ Sam showed him about five or six ways he needed him, to be inside him, to take him, to keep him, to prove Dean was still his. As the thoughts tumbled through his mind, Dean's feelings intensified his own until he couldn't take it anymore.

Grabbing Dean's thighs, he pulled him around, so his legs dropped off the sofa, and his back was to it. Dragging him closer to the edge and dipping his head down, Sam sucked on Dean's exposed hole, moaning at the sensations echoing from his love. He started to tongue him, licking in circles until he pushed his tongue inside, using the tip of his finger to open him up a little. So tight, his Dean was so tight, and he'd missed being inside him... missed it so much.

He stabbed his tongue in farther, opening him up, using his saliva as lubricant for his finger. He was anxious now... needy, and wanted ... needed Dean ready for him. One hand searching over Dean's stomach, fingers playing along his muscles, soothing him, he single mindedly tongue and finger fucked his lover, brushing lightly over his prostate each time he could.

* * *

Dean felt the tugging of his jeans and he did his best to help his lover getting them off, lifting his hips and pushing them down with his free hand. But it was difficult to concentrate on anything more than what Sam’s mouth was doing to his cock. How the angel sucked and played with his rock hard flesh, not letting up on him for a moment, teasing, licking at his tip and swirling around his crown, turning him into a moaning trembling mass of nerves. It was heaven, pure heaven.

“Samuel… love you…” The young man panted, kicking off his jeans when they finally managed to get them to his ankles and spreading himself wider for his lover. Dean moaned and bucked again as he felt the angel’s mouth move to his balls that already felt tight and heavy like he wanted to come, but he didn’t. He didn’t want this to end so soon, damn it.

_Yes… God… yes…_ Dean answered as he practically screamed when Sam’s mouth suddenly returned to his cock. No longer teasing him, taking him in so deep all Dean could feel was the slick wet heat of his lover’s mouth all around him. He lifted his head, watching as Sam’s head went down on him, watching his cock disappear into his lover’s mouth. That alone was nearly enough to drive him over the edge, but when Samuel started sending him images of all the ways he wanted to take him… _Want you. Need you. Yes, please, make me yours again._

Not that he had ever stopped being Samuel’s. He would always be Samuel’s. No one else’s. Not ever.

Dean’s heart was already racing with excitement and he was breathing hard with need, but when Samuel suddenly turned him and pushed his legs up he thought he might just have a heart attack. The way the angel exposed his hole and did not waste a moment before he was licking him there, circling and pushing deep, first with his tongue and then with his finger. Dean’s fingers clutched at the edge of the sofa to ground himself when he felt like he was coming apart at the seams it felt so good. His cock dribbling precome all over his stomach and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer, not after so long of being without Sam, and he wanted his lover inside of him when he came.

“Please, now, Samuel. I’m ready, please, need you now.” Dean begged unashamedly. 

* * *

Samuel was already on edge with need. Every nerve in his body demanding he take Dean, make him his. All those hours on end of thinking about his lover, wanting him, wishing for his touch, for his taste, dying to hear his moans instead of Gabriel's, and now... now he had what he wanted. Dean was giving himself freely, wanting this as bad as the angel wanted... needed him. The plea, made in Dean's distinctive husky voice made it impossible for Sam to wait even another moment.

Straightening, he lifted up on his knees and aligned his now painfully hard cock to Dean's opening. "Need you too. Need you so much, Dean," he said, leaning in, brushing his lover's lips once, then grasping his hips with bruising force, pulling him a little off the sofa as he thrust hard, entering him in one fluid motion. Buried deep inside Dean, he arched back and groaned, the intensity of the pleasure scorching him. Head rolled back, lower lip caught between straight white teeth, he waited, staying stock still, ass clenched tight as he fought to retain his control.

As Dean's body adjusted to his, he slowly let out his breath and opening his eyes, pulled out a little. Searching Dean's face, he thrust again, this time leaning in and welding his mouth over Dean's in a hot, breathless, kiss. So hot, his lover made him feel so hot, the way he tightened around him, the way he bucked up against him. _You're right. There is no one else for either of us. No one._ It was true, an eternity or ten eternities would not be enough time for Sam to get over Dean, over this love they had, this connection.

He moved his hand, helping Dean wrap his legs around his waist, moaning as Dean's heels dug into him, pressed him closer. He started to rock, harder and faster, gasps and moans leaving him between kisses, large hands still clenched around Dean's hips, pulling Dean close. His mouth clung to Dean's, unwilling to be parted for more than the span of time to take a breath, his hands gripped... his lover like he'd never lose him again, his hips pistoned his cock deeper and deeper, joining them bodily as the feeling flooding back and forth between them joined them mentally and spiritually. _Love you... love you so much, Dean. Will never give you... this... us up. Not ever._  


* * *

“Yes…” Dean whispered, never looking away from his lover’s eyes. His entire body trembling, aching, needing Samuel’s touch. When he felt the angel’s hard cock pressing against his slick opening, his breath caught in his throat. The whisper of his love’s warm breath ghosting over his lips making his eyes flutter closed in anticipation… and then Samuel was pushing inside of him. No slow loving penetration but fast and deep and desperate. Dean cried out, his back arching, and his eyes squeezing tightly shut against the pain combined with so much pleasure it brought tears to his eyes.

He wanted it. The pleasure and the pain. Any proof that Samuel was within him now. Joined. Together. Dean forced his eyes open to gaze up at his lover, the sight of Samuel so lost in pleasure as the angel’s hard cock throbbed deep inside of him taking his breath away.

_Yes…_ He whispered again but Samuel needed no encouragement. Then his lover was moving within him… leaning in to kiss him as he began to thrust hard and deep into him and Dean moaned loudly into Samuel’s mouth. His fingers releasing their grip on the edge of the cushions, traveling up the angel’s arms to wrap around his lover’s shoulders. His legs tightening around Samuel’s waist when the angel urged him to. Encouraging his lover even closer, to thrust harder, faster into his body. Arching beneath Samuel to allow him deeper inside of him.

_Never give you up again…_ Dean echoed his lover’s declarations as his breathing grew harsher, his chest heaving, and his moans louder. His fingernails biting deep into the strong muscles of the angel’s shoulders as his lover pushed him so close to the edge of pain and pleasure they became one in the same.

“Let me see you… please Samuel…” He gasped desperately. In this moment Dean wanted nothing between them, absolutely nothing. 

* * *

  
_Yes. Never... never give each other up._ The need for release was so sharp, Samuel's groan was almost pained as he reached between their bodies and gripped the base of his cock, his finger pressing just right to prevent himself from coming. As he pulled his upper body slightly back, his face was was as hard as granite, much harsher and more severe than the face he showed the world, and yet beautiful still.

His nostrils flared as he fought to exert control over his body, and to give Dean what he needed at his moment. His wings unfurled behind him, mostly as white as the driven snow for he had done penance all the time he'd been in Gabriel's prison. His wings fluttered, then lowered, curling around to touch the back of the couch, so anyone standing behind Samuel would see nothing of Dean.

"I am here. I am yours."

For the span of a few heart beats, he just stared at his lover, showing him what was in his heart and sharing his absolute need for Dean. His hand slipped off his cock and moved to Dean's, stroking and squeezing him as Sam started to thrust harder and harder, driving himself deeper inside his lover, so deep Dean would remember this moment for a long time. He didn't want to cause pain... but it had been too long for both of them, and his own attempts to curb his lust met with resistance from his lover.

Swooping down, he took Dean's mouth again, this time roughly... tongue fucking him as hard as he was fucking him. His lover's sounds inflamed him, his mental encouragements drove him wilder with need. His mouth welded to Dean's, his hand claiming Dean's cock, Dean's body claiming his own cock, and their minds tangled together, bound forever in what Sam could only call some sort of divine dance, Samuel suddenly stiffened and announced his climax with a deep guttural cry. An intense shudder of pleasure wracked his body, again, and again, as rope after rope of hot cum left his body to invade Dean's, to fill him, to make him his once more.

"Love you," he muttered against Dean's lips, still thrusting, his breath catching as he felt Dean's cock vibrate under the surface, and through there bond, felt the second orgasm just as sharply as he'd felt his own

* * *

Of course Sam gave him what he wanted. Sam always gave him what he wanted… Dean felt a sharp pang in his heart remembering Michael’s words of accusation that were nonetheless true. How everything that had been done to Samuel was his fault. Because Samuel always gave him what he wanted…

Then the pain was washed away, simply overpowered, by the love he felt for the angel above him as Samuel curled his pure white wings around them both as though to shield them from the rest of the world. His lover’s face, so frighteningly beautiful, showing nothing but love and desire for him and Dean felt tears burning in his eyes.

Guilt could come later. Pain could come later. It had no place, here and now. They’d both endured enough pain…

And then Sam was moving again inside of him. His thrusts so hard and fast it almost hurt, but Dean didn’t care. The pleasure he felt, that Sam gave him, that he felt from his lover, more than made up for any pain. He wanted it even. This utter claiming. Knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week without still feeling Samuel deep inside of him.

He cried out over and over. Shouting his pleasure. Gasping Samuel’s name over and over like a prayer. Before Samuel’s lips covered his own, kissing him so hard Dean tasted a little blood in it, but he kissed the angel back just as fiercely. Raking his blunt nails down the length of his lover’s back as it all coiled low in his belly. All the pleasure, all the pain, all the longing, all the love… before Samuel’s orgasm crashed over him, his lover’s hot seed filling him up, his own cock pulsing as everything inside of him seemed to explode outward, so much pleasure it nearly blinded him. 

* * *

Samuel arched as Dean raked his back, hitting the sensitive areas where his wings attached to his spine. Releasing his lover's cock, he put both arms around Dean, held him close, kissing him ... his mouth, his throat, his shoulders... as he rode the last waves of their orgasms. It was a long time before the stopped rocking and slowly pulled out of Dean.

"I was rough," he murmured, running his hand over the side of Dean's face and looking into his eyes. "I couldn't help my... I'm sorry." He knew Dean would tell him it was what he wanted too, but he wanted to acknowledge his mistake. "After all this time... and you haven't... I should have been more patient."

He would never get tired of staring at Dean's face. For so long he'd stared at stone walls, and Gabriel's crazed eyes. This was _art._ "Let's sit in the Jacuzzi," he nodded his eyes suddenly lighting up. "And then have some chocolate cake. Just like old times. And you can torture me with your atrocious shows, I won't complain. Just none of your... porn, not unless you're ready to star in one again... and after this, probably need a break."

* * *

He was completely surrounded by Samuel. The angel’s arms wrapped around him, the angel’s wings blanketing him, his lover holding him close, inside his body, inside his mind, inside his soul. After so long of missing Samuel, needing him, aching with his loss, now Dean felt almost overwhelmed and it was all he could do not to cling to the angel and sob his eyes out with the overload of emotion he was experiencing.

Sam’s soft loving kisses calmed him however, bringing him down slowly from the heights of pleasure as well as pain. Dean hissed softly when Sam withdrew from him. He simply couldn’t help it. He was raw. Dean wasn’t sure if Samuel had ever fucked him so hard before, and it had been a long time. But even as Samuel apologized for his roughness Dean shook his head in denial of it. He had wanted it as much as Sam. The pain, the pleasure, everything…

But he didn’t say it aloud, because he could feel that Samuel already knew. It was what they both had wanted, needed, but at the same time Sam also needed to apologize at the same time. Dean understood. God, did he understand. So he simply smiled up at the angel, hugging Samuel close an running his hands slowly up and down the angel’s back and along the soft feathered wings.

When Sam mentioned the Jacuzzi Dean couldn’t deny that sounded like a really good idea, especially to his aching muscles. And the way Sam’s eyes practically lit up when he mentioned getting them some chocolate cake to share made Dean grin and laugh in spite of everything. It was so… normal… after everything they had both suffered… But Dean didn’t want to think about that now. Chocolate cake, a warm Jacuzzi, and bad television… that sounded like heaven right now.

Having Sam fuck him again… ok, as good as it sounded, he had to admit Samuel was probably right. He’d need a break if he wanted to be able to walk straight over the next couple of days, no matter how much a part of him wanted the angel to just flip him over and push inside of him again right now. Dean grinned playfully up at the angel all the same and smacked his lover lightly on the ass.

“Guess that just means to be fair it’s your turn next, and no complaining when you’re too sore to sit down afterwards.” 

* * *

Samuel grinned at the agreement in Dean's eyes but was startled by the sudden smack to his ass. "Not how one treats and angel," he said solemnly, but his lover would know how happy he was to find Dean hadn't changed and was as irreverent as ever. It was something that kept Sam grounded, the ability to be made fun of, or to take a joke.

He loved the feelings flooding him through their bond. Satisfaction, combined with desire... desire to copulate again, for it to never end, never mind the pain. He started to smile, and to give Dean mental impressions of all the ways he could get him hard and bring him off that would not involve penetration, many of which he'd learned from Dean's own creative mind, when made his crack.

"Alright." Sam's eyes locked with his lover. They'd done that. Once. It had given both of them great pleasure... different, but good just the same. Right now, he sensed that though Dean was kidding, in his heart, Dean wanted him that way tonight. "I want to be as connected with you as possible. It doesn't matter how," he said, getting up and pulling Dean with him.

Looking down at his lover, he hardly wanted to leave any space between them. Pulling Dean up against his hard frame, he kissed him hard, with all the passion that had built up while he'd been imprisoned, and as if they hadn't relieved some of it right now. His tongue penetrating Dean's mouth, twisting, dancing with his lover's, his lips aching from the pressure, he mentally told him once more how he loved him... had missed him. This time, he told Dean he didn't regret any of his past. That however it had ended... would end, Dean had saved him from a lonely existence that he now realized was akin to being dead.

When he finally pulled away, he stepped back, away from temptation. "Get the Jacuzzi ready and meet me there. I'll be back quickly, with chocolate." Giving a lopsided grin, he started for the door, intending to walk through the closed entry so that Dean would remain in the protection of the angel script he'd sealed the place up with, when he realized he had no clothes on. "I suppose I should get dressed. Stupid rules," he muttered, his wings suddenly appearing and spreading as the robe he'd discarded wrapped around him.

* * *

Samuel’s feelings, flowing over their bond, was like a balm to his soul that had been left ripped and bleeding since the moment the angel had been taken away from him. Sam’s amusement, happiness, desire, love…

It felt like so long since he’d felt genuinely happy. Before Samuel had saved him, taken him away from the insane asylum, showed him what it meant to have someone care for you, love you, Dean barely knew the meaning of the word. Then to have it all taken away… He knew exactly what Samuel was feeling.

Dean smiled up at the angel at Sam’s ‘protest’ over the spanking, then that smile turned less mischievous and more heated when the angel started sending him images and feelings across their bond of all the things they could do to make love. Much like that first night when Sam had refused to fuck him but they’d still had sex all night long until morning when he’d practically passed out from blissful exhaustion. Oh yeah, that sounded like a really great way to spend the night.

Then Samuel agreed to let him… They’d only done it once so far because Sam seemed to prefer fucking him and Dean loved feeling the angel inside of him. But, yeah, Dean definitely wanted it again tonight. Maybe after their bath… or during.

Though when Sam suddenly pulled him to his feet abruptly Dean winced a little. Damn, he was sore all right. But he wasn’t about to complain. Especially when Sam pulled him close and kissed him till his lungs ached for breath and Dean still didn’t want it to end.

“Sure.” Dean agreed. Watching as Sam began to walk, stark naked, for the door and he couldn’t help but laugh when the angel realized he’d been about to walk out in nothing but his skin. Well, he’d probably be able to get that chocolate cake he was craving for free if he did…

“I agree.” He replied with a solemn nod, even though he was still chuckling. It _was_ a shame though that beautiful body had to be covered up. But at the same time, he was just glad that he was the only one who got to see Samuel like this. Samuel was his just as much as he belonged to the angel.

Once Samuel was gone Dean made his way slowly back up the stairs to the bedroom where the bathroom was. Going up those stairs definitely wasn’t pleasant, both due to his aching backside and the fact that he remembered his feet had been cut by that broken glass on the bathroom floor. He was going to have to clean that up before he did anything else.

It took a little searching but Dean managed to find the broom and dustpan and swept up the glass on the floor. His throat tightening a little remembering why there was bloody glass all over the floor. The bomb he had dropped on Samuel. That he’d made a deal… agreed to give Cain his body… As much faith as Dean had in his lover he couldn’t help but be afraid of what would happen when Cain finally came for him. He was more afraid of what might happen to Samuel than what would happen to himself. What Cain might do to Samuel… but also what it might do to the angel if Cain succeeded and took his body…

After Dean cleaned up all the glass and threw it away he got the water in the big Jacuzzi tub running. Taking a shower was going to be interesting with no door, but just like Samuel’s apartment this place had a separate tub and shower at least.

Once there was enough water in the tub, Dean climbed in and turned on the jets. The hot bubbling water starting to relax his muscles immediately and Dean sighed pleasantly as he sat back and waited for his lover to return to him. 

* * *

It didn't take Samuel long to get back. While he was out there, there had been a slight temptation to walk around longer because he'd been cooped up for so long, but his mind kept seeking out Dean's... and that was what the angel really needed, his lover within touching distance. They'd been apart for too long.

He brought a few other food items, so they wouldn't starve, and put those away, then brought one very large slice of cake up stairs, leaving it on the nightstand. He also had a small piece in his hand and had popped it into his mouth as he walked into the bathroom licking his fingers. "Mmmm... missed chocolate too."

As he disrobed again, he watched Dean. Watched wasn't the right word... he admired him. Those full lips that strangely didn't make Dean look the least bit feminine. The strong features, and striking eyes. "Raphael cannot hold a candle to your beauty, it's like you were hand drawn by God."

Was he supposed to talk about _Him_ that way? No... but stupid rules...

Stripped down, he walked up the few stairs and climbed inside the hot tub, slowly getting inside, and sliding around to sit right next to Dean. "Want chocolate?" he asked, leaning in to kiss him with his chocolaty mouth. Tangling his tongue with Dean's, he slowly pulled back. "Remember the days when I tried to make you go for strawberries?" He laughed at himself. "I'm so lucky you're as stubborn as a mule."

Under the water, his hand searched for Dean's, and he threaded their fingers together. "Did you ever finish? Your work on the Impala?" Dean had been close to finishing before their lives had been turned upside down. Knowing how much the car meant to Dean, he had to ask.

* * *

Dean watched Samuel walk in licking chocolate from his fingers and he couldn’t help but snort in amusement.

“I think you missed chocolate more than you missed me.” The young man accused playfully. His eyes drinking over the sight of his lover’s beautiful body as the angel stripped off his clothes and stepped into the bubbling tub to join him. He laughed again into Samuel’s mouth when the angel kissed him deeply, the taste of chocolate still on his lips and tongue.

“Gross. Backwash.” He replied, making a ‘disgusted’ face at Samuel before grinning broadly. “Actually, strawberries is what I wanted.”

When the angel called him stubborn as a mule, Dean’s smile slipped from his face slightly. Not so much from his lover’s words, just because it reminded him so much of what Michael had told him. How all of this was his fault because of his stubbornness… and Michael was right.

Lucky… yeah… the bad kind of luck maybe.

Dean dropped his eyes as he shifted around so he was leaning back against the angel. Watching their hands as Samuel twined their fingers together. He shook his head at Sam’s question.

“No… didn’t do much… after…” He finally whispered softly, knowing he didn’t need to elaborate. 

* * *

"Picking strawberries over chocolate," Sam shook his head, as he shifted so Dean could get comfortable against him. "Maybe I should have brought you chocolate covered strawberries. There's this patisserie in Paris..." He smiled, and closed his eyes. "I'll take you there some day after... after all this is over. We should have traveled... before, but we will, soon."

Even if they beat Cain, they'd be on the run, which meant travel. He clenched his fingers tighter around Dean's, and leaned in to kiss his temple. "And you'll fix it, that car. Show me why Bobby was right, that it was the one for you." His heart ached a little when he remembered the first day Dean had been working on a car, not the Impala. Despite knowing better, he'd teased his ward. That had been a good day.

He sensed Dean's sadness, and that he was beating himself up. "I wouldn't love you if you weren't you," he said quietly. "I may not always be happy with your choices, but I would be miserable if you always made the right ones. The proclivity to err, to fall, to slip... and then climb back up, that is what I admire in man. In you? Well it doesn't hurt that you have beautiful eyes and a slightly bumpy nose," he teased, brushing his mouth over Dean's ear.

Samuel went silent for a while, enjoying the sensation of hot water surround him, massaging him. A stint on a hard floor with your body tied up at strange angles gave you a great appreciation for hot tubs, and other creature comforts. He started to think of the first time Dean had taken a bath in their San Francisco home, the mess he'd made... and Sam's hands against slippery wet flesh. Sending the reminder over their mind link, he turned Dean toward him and leaning in, traced his tongue over the edges of Dean's lips, drawing back when they parted for him. He teased with his tongue, until Dean's came out to play, tangling with his outside their mouths.

Pulling Dean into his arms, he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue inside and searching every corner of Dean's mouth, his tongue stroking and painting the roof of Dean's mouth, and running over the back of his teeth. _You. Wet and slippery. Makes me feel unangelic things._ As if to prove his point, he drew Dean over his lap and pulled him close so he could feel his hardening cock. _It's getting too hot in here._  


* * *

Traveling… Paris? He’d never expected to see any of the places that Samuel spoke about. He’d lived in three places during his life, his parent’s home and the asylum for equal amounts of time during his life. Samuel’s home for the last year of it… Samuel’s apartment in San Francisco was the only place that had really felt like _home_ to him.

He’d been happy there. The thought of traveling now… it was kind of bittersweet. Though he knew he would be happy as long as he was with Samuel, it didn’t matter where they went. But… he would kind of miss San Francisco. He would miss Daryl and Sarah, and he would really miss Bobby and the other friends he’d made there. Because despite Sam’s reassurance that he’d be able to finish working on the Impala… Dean knew they were never going back.

They couldn’t go back. Even if they somehow survived the encounter with Cain the angels would still be looking for them. For him. Michael had warned him if he killed Gabriel that the other angels would never stop hunting him. Dean didn’t regret what he’d done but… he knew it was only a matter of time before they found him. He only hoped he could convince them that Samuel had nothing to do with Gabriel’s death. Dean couldn’t bear the thought of Sam being punished again because of his actions.

Dean knew Sam was telling the truth. He’d heard the angel say similar before. How he admired humans because of their flaws, though he wasn’t sure he ever understood it. After all, just look how fucked up the world was because of humans and their flaws. Just look how Dean had fucked everything up… no, he didn’t think he would ever truly understand it. But at least he knew Sam was telling the truth, that he really did love him, in spite of everything that Dean had done wrong…

“Why do you have such a fascination with my nose?” The young man couldn’t help but snort softly in amusement. Then sighed as he rested his head against the angel’s shoulder, as smile curving his lips at the images and feelings he was getting from his lover across their bond. The memories… god, he had missed this so much.

Then Sam was pulling him even closer, teasing his lips with his tongue making Dean moan in frustration and anticipation at the same time. Their tongues playing lazily together like they had all the time in the world… and then Samuel was exploring the inside of his mouth as though it were the first time… or the last. Dean moaned eagerly as Samuel drew him into his lap and he could already feel the hard proof of his lover’s desire for him rubbing against the curve of his ass as he settled down on his lover’s hips. His own cock eagerly responded, growing harder by the second as he rubbed himself wantonly against the firm hard muscles of Samuel’s stomach. Letting his lover’s cock slide between his cheeks as he rocked back.

“I don’t think it’s hot enough.” Dean replied, licking the angel’s lips before thrusting his own tongue past them with a moan. Exploring his lover’s mouth just as thoroughly as Sam had explored him. 

* * *

The press and slide of Dean's cock against his stomach, sent electric need radiating through Samuel with an intensity that surprised the angel since they'd both found satisfaction only a short time ago. Then again, his human never failed to get a rise out of him, even when he wasn't trying. And when, like now, he was trying... there was no point trying to fight it, none at all, and Sam wasn't about to.

Gripping Dean's hips, he pushed him downward, throwing his head slightly back as his own cock rubbed against Dean's ass, dragging along its crack. They kissed and moved against each other in the water with almost too little friction, just enough to torture, to make Sam crave more, want more. He allowed his need to flood over their mental connection, and groaned as Dean returned the favor. He ran one hand up to Dean's chest, his palm sliding over satin soft skin, his thumb lingering over his lover flat nipple, rubbing and pinching, groaning bucking up the instant Dean jerked against him.

Moving his mouth lower, Samuel kissed along Dean's jaw, biting it to hold Dean in place for a second, then kissing him better. Dipping his head down, he licked his lover's throat, his hand exploring his body, and dragging him close, molding him as close as he could. Tension wound tighter and tighter, low in Sam's belly, desire and lust making him practically devour his lover.

He dragged his mouth away, his lips pulsing, swollen, his eyes almost unfocused. "I know how to make it hotter," he finally responded, pushing Dean off his lap, then grabbing the edge of the hot tub with his hands at the sides of his body, and pushing up, and back, so he sat outside the water. His knees were spread wide, his aching hard cock flat against his belly. Licking his lips. he pushed his body a little more to the edge and leaned slightly back, so Dean could have access. "You wanted something." His gaze locked with Dean's, heat rising from his body as he waited for his lover.

* * *

Dean groaned at the almost bruising grip that Samuel had on his hips. Loving the feeling of the angel’s strong hands guiding him back and forth, up and down… his lover’s hard dick rubbing against him, sliding between his cheeks. So fucking good. So perfect. He arched into the angel’s touch when Sam’s fingers slid up to play with his nipples. He moaned at the trail of bites that Samuel was leaving along his jaw and throat. Marking him. Dean knew he could easily come again just from this, from just the feeling of their shared pleasure coursing back and forth over their bond.

But then Samuel was pushing him away and Dean whimpered unashamedly in complaint. His eyes pleading as he stared down at his lover, ready to beg the angel not to stop. Then Samuel’s words penetrated and Dean couldn’t help but groan in desire at the way his lover was offering himself…

“Oh fuck, Sam…” Dean breathed, shifting in the large bath tub so that he was kneeling between his lover’s legs, spread so wide, just for him. His touch possessive as he ran his hands up from the inside of Samuel’s straining thighs, over the firm rippling stomach muscles, and up his chest. His eyes greedy as they drank in every inch of glistening skin laid out before him. He wanted to burn this image into his memory.

Samuel was his, only his, this sight was for him alone… Samuel wanting him, needing him, body waiting to be claimed by him…

“You… only want you…” He whispered as he leaned in to kiss the angel, his tongue as greedy as his eyes had been, tasting every inch of his lover’s mouth as his hands roamed back down. Over every inch of flesh he could reach and finally sliding underneath his lover’s ass, his fingers finding their way between the firm cheeks to the tight puckered hole waiting for him.

Dean wasted no time sliding one finger deep into his lover as he continued to practically fuck Samuel’s mouth with his tongue. Quickly adding a second finger and scissoring his lover’s body open for him. Dean hoped the water would be enough to ease the friction, since this was only the second time he had made love to Samuel like this. The very last thing he wanted to do after everything Sam had been through was hurt his lover…

He curled his fingers inside of the angel’s body, rubbing over his prostate lovingly, before pushing a third finger past the tight ring of muscles. Opening his lover up for his cock. His cock already weeping just imagining the feeling of Sam’s hot body clenching around him.

Breaking their kiss for air reluctantly, Dean pulled back just enough to gaze into his lover’s eyes.

“Wrap your legs around me.” Dean panted as he withdrew his fingers and wasted no time lining up the head of his cock at the angel’s entrance. Grasping his lover’s hips tightly to keep him still as he began to slowly push his way inside.

* * *

Samuel moved his mouth back and forth against Dean's tongue, moaning softly as Dean tongue fucked him senseless and pushed his finger inside him. Desire erupted within him, his cock twitching with need. _Need you Dean... so much._ Sensing where Dean's imagination was going, Sam clenched his ass tight, gripping Dean's finger inside him, easing up, and clenching again. He knew he was pushing them both to the edge, maybe too soon, but he couldn't control all the need that had built up inside him all this time. He had wanted Dean, any way he could have him. Kissing, touching, fucking, being fucked... and now he could have his lover any way he wanted... and he still wanted him _every_ way.

As Dean loosened him up a little more, Sam whispered. "It's alright... won't hurt me, Dean...s'alright." But Dean, his Dean was stubborn, and took his time. Samuel smiled against his lips, though a sigh of relief broke from him when Dean pulled back and abruptly demanded exactly what Sam wanted to give.

Closing his legs around Dean, the angel threw his head back as his lover slowly breached him. Anxious to have Dean inside him, stretching him, part of him, Sam tried to thrust forward, but Dean's bruising grip on his hip prevented him. A tortured groan tore from his throat, his eyes opening and locking with Dean's. Pulling his hands off the floor, he threw his arms around Dean's shoulders and pulled him close, trying to show him it was okay, that he could thrust. "We've waited enough... no more waiting for us," he said, voice rough with need. "Fuck me. Fuck me, Dean," he asked with uncharacteristic bluntness.

* * *

As Dean slid home inside of his beautiful lover, he could feel Samuel’s need for him. His desperation to have Dean deep inside his body, fucking him, claiming him… as no one else ever had and no one else ever would.  


  
When Dean had seen some of the things that… Gabriel… had done to Samuel he had feared… not that what the insane angel had done to his lover wasn’t bad enough, but Dean knew what it was like to be… forced… like that. It had been horrible, shattering, and bad enough it had been strangers… and Rick… who had done it to Dean, people Dean had cared nothing about. But Samuel had once trusted Gabriel…

But even if Dean couldn’t feel in the corner of Sam’s mind that Gabriel had never been able to complete the deed, despite trying, the young man would have known just because of how Sam felt around him now. Almost virginal tight around his aching cock, because Dean had only taken his lover that one time before, and the young man moaned loudly at the exquisite feeling. Shoving all thoughts of Gabriel, what he had almost done to Sam, far from his mind and concentrating only on one thing. To give his lover as much pleasure as he possibly could. To show Sam how much he loved him, over and over again…

“No more waiting.” Dean whispered against his lover’s lips in agreement before kissing the beautiful angel deeply once more. Thrusting his tongue into Samuel’s mouth, even as he drew his hips back, almost completely leaving his lover’s body, before sheathing himself home again. Giving Samuel exactly what he wanted, what he needed, again and again he fucked Samuel in long deep strokes. Letting all of his pleasure and love flood over their bond. 

* * *

  
_Yes, yes... Dean... yes._ Each time Dean pushed deep inside him, Sam had his evidence, his proof. He was here. Dean was here with him. They still had each other, despite Gabriel's efforts. They still moved each other, body and soul. This fire between them went much deeper than lust and desire. It went beyond anything the angel could dream of. It was a bond he couldn't understand, a bond that would not be severed, that went through the fabric of his and Dean's very existence.

They fucked harder. Loved harder. Kissed harder.

There was no yesterday, and no tomorrow. Time stood still. And in this time, Samuel had everything he needed. He and his lover were as one, moved as one. _Love you Dean, love you so much_ He flooded their mental bond with words and with his feelings, pulling on his lover with ever growing desperation, his mouth clinging to Dean's, his tongue chasing and battling, stroking and tasting, There had never been anyone for him before Dean, and there would never be anyone else for him, not ever.

Trapped between their bodies, Samuel's cock was squeezed and pressed each time the they thrust against each other. It ached and pulsed, steadily leaking against Dean's hot flesh. Sam's wings suddenly unfurled and lifted above both their heads, beating with increasing speed as Sam's need became more urgent. Fiery heat exploded low in his belly. Ripping his mouth away, he shouted, "Deeeeean," and threw his head back, fingers biting into Dean's shoulders as he rode the waves of his release, hot ropes of cum streaming between their bodies.

He felt Dean fill him with his seed, clenched around his lover's cock, milking it... demanding as much as Dean would, could give him. They rode out each others' pleasure, and then Sam was kissing Dean again. Their bodies separated, but Sam couldn't give up the closeness just yet. He slid down into the water, standing in front of Dean and pulling his body up flush against his frame as he devoured him with kisses.

* * *

It was perfect. When Samuel came it was almost a fight for Dean not to close his eyes in utter ecstasy at the feelings of pleasure and love flowing between them. His own orgasm, burying his cock deep inside his lover’s body one final time as his seed spilled into the angel, was almost an afterthought. It was so overwhelming, and Dean wanted to burn this memory into his mind for all eternity. So when he died… if he went to hell… at least he’d have this one memory to sustain him through the endless years of torment that awaited him.

Dean practically whimpered in regret when he felt himself finally slip from his lover’s tight channel, missing the physical connection between them immediately even though their emotional bond was stronger than ever. The kiss Sam gifted him with helped ease some of that ache however, and when the angel drew him close Dean wrapped his arms tightly around his lover. Tight enough that he knew if Sam was human he probably would be hurting him but unable to make himself stop. Needing that illusion that nothing could ever rip them apart as long as he held on tight enough.

The young man ran his hands slowly over Sam’s back, along the angel’s wings, and into his lover’s hair. Breaking their kiss with a gasp only when he saw dots beginning to dance behind his eyes from lack of air.

“I think we did that right.” Dean said smiling up at the angel, repeating Samuel’s words the first time the angel had made love to him. 

* * *

Dean's hand on his wings had the angel arching back, new fingers of pleasure bursting through him. Sharing the sensations with his lover, Sam finally allowed Dean to break their kiss, so they could both take a few much needed breaths. His gaze settled on his beautiful lover's face, his heart clenching at the words that spilled from his lips. Running his knuckles down the side of Dean's face, Sam nodded. "We did it right. We always get this right."

They lingered in the water for a while longer, touching, kissing, whispering or mentally sharing their feelings. Once they were out of the water, and dried up, they sat in bed for hours, eating the chocolate goodies Samuel had brought. Before Dean, chocolate had been his only downfall, but he now knew better than to use that word which seemed to freak Dean out.

Between the comfort food and the long kisses, they each managed to share pieces of the hell they'd gone through during Sam's incarceration. A few whispered painful words, a few flashed mental images, and they caught up with each others' lives. Cain came up, of course. Samuel didn't allow that to dampen the mood, that particular fallen angel would have his turn at them soon enough. Declaring that they needed to put that, and the recent past aside, Samuel rolled over on top of Dean and started to tease him with kisses and touches intended to inflame his lover. They didn't have time to waste, and he didn't intend to waste any single moment of the time they did have.

Three days of bliss. They would have it. And then, they'd prepare for a battle for both their souls.


	16. Chapter 16

  
Dean stood at the window, looking out through the slats in the closed shutters. It was time. Three days… they had passed in a blink of an eye and yet seemed to last a lifetime at the same time.    


  
The young man couldn't help but smile when he remembered how he and Sam had made love on practically every available surface in the condo. He remembered how they hadn't even bothered to make the bed because it seemed every time they did Sam would either tumble him back onto the freshly made sheets or Dean would do the same to the angel. 

Sam had made all kinds of food, his favorites, and a lot of exotic dishes he'd never had before, and Dean ate till he felt like he was going to burst. He had to put weight back on, his lover insisted, but Dean was pretty sure the angel helped him work off any calories he might have gained soon after. 

They'd talked. They'd kissed. They'd made love. Yes, Dean was pretty sure Sam had loved him a lifetimes worth in those three days. He thought he now knew what it meant when someone said they could die happy. How many people could really say that? Sam had given him all he could ever dream of, what more could he possibly want? 

At the same time Dean hoped that wouldn't happen today. Even though all the odds were stacked against them he hoped that they would both come out of this alive. If that made him selfish, so be it. He wasn't ready to lose Sam yet.

It was time… He could feel Cain looking for him. He could feel the fallen angel's desire to claim him. Dean knew the former angel couldn't find him however. Not yet. Not with the protections Sam had placed. The protection's Dean was about to break.

Turning away from the window Dean looked at his lover surrounded by flames. The ring of oil burning around him bright and hot, it was now or never. Dean offered the angel a slight smile before turning back to the seal on the wall next to the window. It was the last one. Dean swung the sledge hammer shattering the plaster wall and the seal along with it.    


* * *

Samuel was somber but completely tranquil, a ninety degree about face from the anxiety and worry he felt the last time Dean was about to be in a show down with Cain. This time, they were in it together. This time, they were fighting for their freedom. This time, there was no choice. He would do everything in his power to protect the man he loved in ways even artists and poets had yet to completely depict. He was determined and he'd put all of the power and knowledge he'd gathered in a millennia to gain his goal. Save Dean, and defeat Cain, permanently.

They'd made love more times than possible for a human, but their mental connection made it possible for him to stimulate Dean's desire and Dean himself accessed that part of Sam when he wanted to instigate more sex even when he was satiated and unable to move from their last round. He knew exactly how to make Sam notice him, want him, and all he had to do was feed that desire and then ride the waves of Sam's need. He was too clever by far, as Sam had told him each time he refused to sleep when the angel told him he should, and instead rebelliously had both of them desperate for each other, clinging, groping, needing... making up for lost time.

Gabriel hadn't had a prayer of capturing what Samuel had with Dean. Thinking of his dead brother made the angel sad. They had thousands of years of history together, and only the last months of it had been tainted by the madness that had taken hold of Gabriel. Still, it was for the better that the archangel had been destroyed now. Not because Samuel wanted revenge on him, but because it had been self defense on the part of Dean and because it prevented Gabriel from undoing all the years of service he'd given the Lord and to humanity. It mattered not that his service to humanity had been given grudgingly, it had been given in the way of most angels. Weighing the evil of the last months of his life against his record, Samuel thought Gabriel would eventually find his way back to heaven, in the form of a soul but not as an angel.

Looking past the ring of fire around him, Sam watched Dean as he made the preparations and walked in and out of the living room. Steely determination was etched in every line of his body, in his face, and in his eyes. It made Samuel smile. Just why had he ever thought his chosen ward was merely human and as such, very vulnerable? He'd killed Gabriel, and he was embarking on a fight against a fallen angel and taking it in stride. _Angels should fear to tread where you walk._

When Dean turned to look at him and gave him a slight smile, Sam felt Dean's love come across their bond right before he slammed his mind shut. After three days of constant connection, it felt strange and lonely to be shut out, but it was necessary. And then Dean smashed the last protection from the eyes of angels and demons alike, and the game was on. A cold draft swept through the room as Sam's eyes went dark, and his wings unfurled completely.

It wouldn't be long. The angel already felt taint in the air. "He's coming."

*

Cain was angry. He'd dreamt of the moment he would make Dean's body his, explore those powers he'd had a hint of the last time he'd tried to take him. Even better, he'd have the body of the man his nemesis loved, access to his memories, oh how could use that against Samuel. If that angel's obsession for Dean was as strong as Gabriel's had been for Samuel, there was a good chance Cain could seduce Samuel to the dark side using Dean's body as the lure. Or he might just torture and kill him, he could still use having Dean's body as an advantage.

But before any of that happened, he had to have Dean's body. And it was nowhere to be found.

Then he felt him. By God and by Satan, he felt Dean and tracked him. Wary of a trap, he took his time making certain there were no angels around. He felt just the one, Samuel. Hadn't he told Dean to leave him and come to him alone? Maybe Samuel hadn't been cooperative.

Cain wove a net of taint for miles around Dean's location, cloaking it from the view of angels. Just as in Egypt, he created a tunnel straight to hell. It would take time before the demons found it and started their ascent, but that wasn't his purpose in opening a way to hell. It was for Samuel, if needed.

*

Cain materialized with unerring precision behind Dean, one arm going around his throat in a choke hold, the other sliding possessively over his chest. He'd known, wherever Sam was, he couldn't move against him when he had Dean like this. Now he was pleasantly surprised to see Sam trapped in a ring of burning holy oil. "You're resourceful, but late," he said against the human's ear, pulling him up hard against his lower body. "I've had a hard-on for that body for quite a while now, and I'm not patient."

Samuel's eyes went impossibly darker as Cain's pale hand traveled downward over Dean like he owned him. He knew Cain was baiting him and tried to keep his emotions in check.

"Maybe I'll have you once right here, let you enjoy me from the outside, before I'm in you, hmm?" Cain's long white hair spilled across Dean's shoulder as he leaned forward to skim his mouth over the hunter's cheek. "Take you the way Gabriel took Samuel, it would be poetic."

* * *

Dean felt it… him… even before Sam spoke. The dark taint… so powerful. There was a time when even being so close to a demon would send him to his knees, overwhelmed by the darkness emanating from them. Over time he’d learned how to control that reaction, shield himself a bit from it, but Cain… the black evil radiating from the fallen angel… it was so much worse than any mere demon.

But he had to endure it. He had to remain strong.

Yes… he was coming. Dean felt it when the dark web of taint, the same he’d seen in Egypt, the same he had been able to feel before the angels when he’d first looked through Sam’s eyes, began to weave around them. Samuel’s wards had been able to shield them from the sight of both angels and demons alike. Now Cain’s taint shielded them from angels. They would be alone in this fight.

Honestly? Dean would have it no other way…

Dean knew the fallen angel was there even before he felt the iron grip close around his throat and chest. He couldn’t have stopped the knee jerk reaction of trying to pull away from the fallen angel even if he’d tried. Not that it did any good. Cain’s hold on him was immovable. The darkness surrounding him almost as bad as it had been before, when it had been inside of him, violating him worse than any physical violation he’d ever endured.

The dream… Dean remembered when Cain had come to him in the dream. The… desire he’d felt. When Cain had held him, kissed him… How Cain had made him respond to him… This was nothing like that time.

“I tried…” Dean started to respond to the fallen angel’s accusation that he was ‘late’. At Cain’s… suggestion… whispered in his ear, Dean couldn’t help but tense even further however even as his knees felt a little weak from the overwhelming darkness choking him. Oh fuck… it was Dean’s job to distract Cain, but this? Surely the fallen angel would expect him to be terrified, to refuse. Anything to keep him from taking over his body for a few more minutes…

“That… wasn’t part of the deal…” The young man replied, barely resisting the urge to glance at Samuel. 

* * *

"The deal was your body is mine, you have no more say over it," Cain purred. "Mine to do with as I will." Jerking Dean up harder against his body, he cupped his groin with one hand, and his chin with the other, essentially pressing the knife to one side of Dean's throat right below the chin, and holding the other side in place using his thumb on his jaw. He forced Dean's face closer, brushing his lips over the corner of his mouth.

Slowly, he started to invade Dean's mind. Dean's mental barriers were strong, but no human could resist him, not for long. He used the tendrils of his power to caress Dean from the inside and out, forced the nerves in his body and the synapses in his mind to bend to his will, to set the young man's heart racing. To make him react, whether he wanted to or not.

Feeling Dean's cock harder, he chuckled. "You've trained your little angel cock slut very well, Samuel. Look at him, look..." he pulled his hand away for only a moment to allow Sam to see the rigid line of Dean's shaft straining against his jeans, then palmed the boy harder, squeezing him.

Samuel bristled and tensed. Jaw clenched, he moved closer to the edge of the ring of fire. He couldn't risk trying to brush Dean's mind, not now. "You're a coward. It's me you want dead, and yet you play your stupid meaningless games. You want me, fight me. Get in here."

"Oh there's nothing meaningless about this game. You took everything from me. My position... my place... and now I'll take what's yours. Samuel, you never needed anything before... there was nothing I could take from you before. Then came Dean." As if forgetting Sam's presence, Cain brought the knife higher, to Dean's mouth. "Open it. Suck on it like it's my cock. You want it bad, don't you," he whispered grinding against Dean's ass as he slipped the blade between his lips and forced waves of lust to invade his mind. "Suck it."

Sam flashed back to Gabriel. Touching him. Forcing him. Talking to him much like that. But there was a worse memories that surfaced. Dean's, from the asylum. His chest started to heave as he took deep breaths. The instant that knife was away from his ward, he was going to kill Cain. Lord forgive him, but his motives weren't completely pure.

* * *

A sharp hiss escaped Dean’s lips when the fallen angel pulled him even tighter against him. Dean hadn’t even noticed the knife in Cain’s hand before until it was pressed against the vulnerable line of this throat. Not that it was the worst of Dean’s worries right now. Cain didn’t want him dead after all. But that didn’t mean the fallen angel wouldn’t cut him. The fallen angel had him literally by the balls and Dean couldn’t help the wince of pain that escaped him when Cain began to grope him hard.

Then Dean could feel the dark cold essence of the fallen angel invading his mind. Dean wanted to resist it, but he couldn’t. He had made the deal… if they were going to fool the fallen angel into believing he intended to go through with it, he couldn’t resist now. He couldn’t resist anything Cain wanted to do to him. He now owned his body…

But Cain’s aims weren’t to take over his body, not yet anyway, as Dean quickly found out as feelings of arousal began to pour into him like liquid fire. His body reacting against his will and his cock beginning to harden even though the former angel’s groping of him was still more painful than pleasurable.

Dean’s cheeks burned with shame as much as with forced arousal hearing the fallen angel’s words to Samuel. Knowing Sam was seeing all of this, his body reacting like a well trained whore, knowing there was nothing either of them could do about it, not yet…

A whimper escaped Dean’s throat and he didn’t try to stifle it. He had to keep Cain’s attention on… other things… rather than taking over his body. No matter how much it disgusted him, he had to play along. Dean never thought he would be… ‘thankful’… of what Rick had done to him all those years in the asylum. But the evil man had taught him well how to fake enjoyment, to beg for more…

The next sound Dean made when the wicked blade moved from his neck to his lips was a moan of desire. It wasn’t hard to fake with Cain’s emotions still flooding through him, making Dean feel what he didn’t want to feel. When he pushed his ass back against the fallen angel’s hardening cock and parted his lips to let the knife slip between them, that was all him however.

Dean ran his tongue over the flat edge of the razor sharp knife, playing with it in his mouth just as Cain ordered him to. He was all too aware that the blade could easily cut off his tongue with a flick of Cain’s wrist. Dean really hoped that Cain decided his tongue was of more use to him still attached.

Perhaps to encourage that opinion, Dean ran his tongue purposefully over the sharp point of the blade. It stung like a bitch and blood immediately flooded his mouth, and that was the point. Dean pulled his head back and turned his head offering his now bloodied lips to the fallen angel. 

* * *

"Don't!" Samuel's command thundered loudly as if coming from the heavens. "Let him go, Cain, or I will--"

As the walls shook, and the cold breeze blew around them, sheer pleasure coursed through the fallen angel. He didn't bother looking at Samuel, but stared at Dean's lips as he spoke. "Or you'll what? Face it Samuel, you're impotent, just like your threats. And impotent is not what Dean needs right now," he voice dropped to a husky whisper as he lowered his mouth over Dean's.

Cain kissed his vessel slowly, savoring the taste of his blood... like it was a sacrifice to his greatness. His tongue caressed and stroke Dean's, lapping at it, and tangling with it. As the room grew colder, Cain's blood got hotter. His kisses turned savage and demanding as he used the knife to slice off Dean's shirt from neckline to him. His other hand still cupped Dean's cock, massaging it, squeezing it, making sure both vessel and angel knew who Dean belonged to know.

"Cain. Cain!" Samuel made a sound of pain, as if the fire burned him. "Make a deal, a new deal. Leave him alone... leave him or I will hunt you wherever you are, even in the very depths of hell. Do you hear me?"

Cain heard, and the more he heard, the better he liked this idea. Pulling his mouth away, he licked his lips. "I'm going to enjoy you. Now, and after I ride your body. There are so many things I'm going to do, and you'll be right there with me. Now undo your pants."

He turned his head to Samuel. "You're going to watch me fuck your needy little slut." He scraped the blade along Dean's nipple, making certain it would stay erect. "I'm going to wash you away... I'll be the last one who takes him, and he will like it... watch him beg for more, more of things you can't possibly have given him with your angelic ways," he sneered. "I'm in him, in his mind, you know. He likes it rough, craves it. He hates it when you're gentle and sweet. Isn't that right Dean?" The blade slipped low on Dean's belly, where his zipper was now open.

Nostrils flaring, Samuel tried again. "You do not want me on your tail, Cain."

"Oh... I can't wait to meet you again, in Dean's body. I can't wait Samuel. Will you kill me? Or will you beg me to give you one more night with Dean? I can allow him to surface, you know?" He gave a nasty laugh. Maybe if you fuck us, I will show you what he really likes." He kissed the side of Dean's neck, then bit him hard. "See how he's reacting? I'm not lying... all that time, and you never satisfied him how he wanted it."

He shoved Dean. "On all fours."

* * *

Was it cowardly of him to wish that Cain would actually be moved by Samuel’s threats? Probably. But they all knew he wouldn’t be. Sam was ‘powerless’ right now, after all. At least, that’s what they needed Cain to think.

So when Cain practically raped his mouth, Dean didn’t resist. In fact, he was forced to participate. The lust the fallen angel fed into his body pretty much ensured that he would react, whether Dean wanted to or not.

Dean hissed sharply into the ‘kiss’ when the knife grazed his chest as his shirt was sliced off him easily. No matter how revolting it was to him, he didn’t fight the feelings or his forced reactions. Cain had to believe he was giving himself over willingly… as he’d promised to do… to keep the deal…

When Cain finally broke the kiss, leaving Dean panting, and ordered him to unbutton his jeans, the young man only hesitated for a moment before complying. The sharp blade teasing his nipple as he did so making Dean wince even as it drew another unwilling moan from him. The flat edge of the blade caressing down his skin making his stomach muscles flutter with fear for more than one reason.

As Cain bragged about what he would do… once he was inside his body… it was so difficult not to look at Samuel. To beg the angel not to let Cain do whatever he planned. That Samuel would kill him… kill Cain inside of him… if it came to that.

But it wouldn’t come to that. It wouldn’t. Their plan. It had to work.

Then Cain was shoving him hard, making him stumble and land on his knees even before Dean heard the order. Swallowing hard, Dean did as he was commanded, getting down on all fours.

Don’t watch. If Cain did… what he was planning… before Samuel saw an opening, he prayed at least his lover wouldn’t watch…

* * *

Cain tore his gaze away from Samuel and went after Dean, dropping down onto his knees behind him. He laid a heavy, possessive hand over the small of the hunter's back, pushing him down slightly. "So obedient, is that what you like so much about your cock-slut?" Cain leaned in, and pressed his hard arousal against Dean's jean's clad ass, grinding against him as he looked up at Samuel. "Tsk, tsk.... you're angry... jealous. Your wings must be bleeding red." Shoving his fingers into the waistband of Dean's jeans, he yanked him closer, groaning as his cock collided with the hunter's ass, practically riding it as he held him in place.

He flooded more feelings of lust into his vessel to be, so much that moans started to emanate from Dean's throat. "Hear that Samuel, he really is mine." Leaning over Dean, he reached under, knife still in his hand, palming Dean's cock with the handle of the knife pressing against Dean.

Samuel's nostrils flared. Cain was right, his wings were probably getting redder by the minute. Only the fact that the knife was so close to Dean held the angel in place. That, and the need to think clearly, to find the right moment. Otherwise, Dean might not make it... or he'd become Cain's. So he had to clamp down on his need to break Cain's hands, and on the disturbing feelings curling through him at the thought of Dean hard and heavy for that tainted son of hell.

"You're sweating," Cain pointed out. "Are you imagining me inside him... inside this tight body?" He squeezed Dean hard, giving a satisfied sound when the hunter tried to rear up, but was forced to keep in place. "I want you to see him coming for me, want you to see him beg and plead for more, in ways he never has for you."

Sam wished he could brush Dean's mind, comfort him. Instead, he stood there mute, fists clenched at his side and feeling as impotent to stop this as he had against Gabriel. A muscle throbbed in his jaw but otherwise, he tried to appear impassive.

Abruptly, Cain stood up. "Let's start with something more personal," he said with a cruel twist of his lips. Moving in front of Dean, he stared at him. An invisible force shoved the hunter's head down, pressing his face into the floor. "Kiss you way up my leg. Beg for my cock, beg for it as you take me out," he told Dean, never taking his eyes off Samuel. Though he lessened the force on Dean's back, he would only allow him to move slowly.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help the tremble that passed through his body when he felt the heavy cold hand press against his back and shove him down even further. Fear, disgust, and arousal that wasn’t his own flooded through his veins like wild fire. It felt like he was burning up and freezing from the inside out at the same time. The feelings so strong they felt like they were tearing him to pieces a little at a time, and Dean wondered how much of him would actually be left when Cain was done ‘playing’ with him, when the fallen angel finally decided to take his body.

Then he felt Cain’s hard arousal pressing hard against his ass, only a few layers of cloth separating them, and another almost violent tremor passed through him. Partly from forced arousal, but mostly from fear.

“Please…” The plea broke from his lips before he could silence it, but it didn’t matter. Dean knew there would be no mercy from the thing behind him, in fact, his pleas would surely only encourage the fallen angel. Any further pleas were thankfully silenced when Cain pulled him back hard, and Dean gasped sharply. The moans that broke from his lips that followed embarrassed and ashamed him but he couldn’t stop them.

The sharp blade nicked the skin of his stomach as Cain grabbed his cock and squeezed him with the knife still in his hand. Dean felt his blood dripping down along his abdomen from the shallow wound, dripping underneath his unbuttoned jeans.

Another sound of both pain and pleasure broke from his throat when Cain squeezed him hard, taunting Samuel at the same time. Dean tried not to look back, he really did, but he couldn’t help it. He glanced back at Samuel and though the expression on his lover’s face broke his heart, it also gave him strength. He could do this. He wasn’t alone.

When Cain suddenly released him, Dean almost collapsed to the floor, but something was holding him up, even as it held him down at the same time. Cain. Keeping him in the position he wanted without touching him. Dean tried to look up at the fallen angel when Cain came around to his front, but instead he was shoved even harder down by the invisible hands holding him in place. Cain’s order made another tremor pass through him, and Dean swallowed hard against the bile that welled up in his throat.

It’s nothing worse than he’d done before… Dean kept trying to tell himself that, even as he moved to comply. It was such a strange feeling, feeling such revulsion and arousal at the same time. He knew the latter wasn’t his own but it was still odd feeling both at the same time as he pressed his lips against the inside of Cain’s calf, wanton needy sounds spilling from his throat that he wished he could stop but didn’t try to.

Doing exactly what Cain wanted him to. He kissed his way slowly up the fallen angel’s leg, his hands following. Moving up until he finally reached Cain’s groin and rubbed his cheek against the hard length straining against the tight black leather. Dean looked up at the fallen angel through his eyelashes as he moaned in need, begging, just like a good little slut. 

* * *

Cain's breath caught in his throat. That mouth, that perfect mouth pleading for him, for it. He hadn't realized how much he wanted to ram his cock down Dean's mouth, and not only for Sam's entertainment. "That's right, tell me how much you want it," he said, pressing Dean's face against the hard ridge visible along his thigh.

With one hand, he undid his button, then unzipped.

"God dammit!"

"Blasphemy?" Cain shot Samuel a purely malevolent look. "And we're only just getting started. How far will you fall?" he asked, pulling out his cock. "How far, Samuel, when I'm fucking his mouth? When he's choking on me and pleading for more?" Seeing Samuel take a step closer to the fire, it gave him such satisfaction.

Cain gripped Dean's jaw, forcing his face up. He rubbed his aching cock across those lips of his, pulsing more lust through Dean's body, making him want it bad.

Samuel's heart slammed against his chest, his shooting straight to his temples as he watched hell's filth tease Dean's mouth with his swollen and flushed cock. That someone else was touching what was his, only his, had his blood boiling. That the person was evil and tainted, and that he was able to humiliate Dean, make him plead like that, made it a thousand times worse.

Pulling his gaze away from the tortured angel, Cain looked down. "Take it, bitch." One hand behind Dean's head, he pushed his eager cock into his mouth, forcing him to take every inch, all the way down to his throat, and moaning as he felt Dean struggle. "Suck it." His eyes turned steely gray as he forced his will on Dean, and leaned back as Samuel's little slut started to work him his cock.

* * *

Dean wondered briefly if it was possible to go insane from arousal as even more was forced into him. So much it was practically torture, his cock so hard and throbbing it felt like it was going to explode, his skin so hyper sensitive that every touch seemed to feel like razor blades drawing down his flesh. Maybe that was part of Cain’s plan. To drive him literally mad with need. Leaving him nothing but a wanton jabbering mass begging for only one thing… To be fucked by the fallen angel…

That thought terrified him, but it was so hard to feel anything besides the arousal that Cain forced upon him. Even the disgust he knew he should feel from the way he continued to rub against the fallen angel’s crotch like a cat in heat seemed small and insignificant compared to the lust burning in his veins. He barely even heard Samuel’s swear through the hammering of his heart and his own wanton moans.

Fall… Samuel? Is that what Cain wanted? For Samuel to fall? To become like him? Dean remembered the other fallen angel he’d had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting. The one that had taken him to where Gabriel was holding Samuel prisoner. He remembered the darkness that emanated from it. He remembered its bloody wings… no… that wouldn’t happen to Samuel. Samuel was too strong…

And yet, Gabriel had fallen… due to jealousy…

Almost before the fear for his lover could even form inside of him at the possibility, it was buried under another wave of powerful lust as Cain grabbed his jaw and rubbed the head of his swollen hard cock over his lips. Dean heard himself moan loudly even as he tried to pull away, but couldn’t.

Though he had sworn to obey, to give his body over to whatever Cain wanted that was the deal, Dean couldn’t help when he started to fight as the fallen angel rammed his cock down his throat. Fighting against the need in his own body, fighting against Cain’s hold, fighting for his very sanity, but it was a battle lost before it had truly began.

His fingers dug into the black clad thighs, clinging to the fallen angel even as he tried to pull away. Moans of desire intermingled with sounds of protest around the thick length throbbing in his mouth. Cain didn’t even need to hold his head in place as he took the other man’s cock as deep as the fallen angel wanted, even if it choked him. Cain didn’t even need to fuck his mouth as Dean eagerly bobbed his head, sucking on the hard length like the perfect whore. 

* * *

Samuel's eyes went darker than ebony as he watched Dean swallow Cain's cock. His jaw tensed and the temperature in the room dropped significantly. He had to fight, to struggle to dampen the building hate for Cain who was rubbing his filthy hands all over Dean's face, and tugging on his hair like he belonged to him. His lover's choking sounds and the fallen angel's disregard had him burning up.

Between getting Samuel worked up over the loss of his slut, and having the slut service him, Cain lost himself in lust. The knife slipped from his hand to the floor, but he didn't care, he could hold Dean in place with his power. Right now, he needed to slake his lust, and to put on a show for Samuel. Bending his knees slightly, he started to fuck Dean's mouth, ramming himself as deep as he could go, enjoying the gurgling and heaving as Dean sucked him, even when he couldn't breath. "Mine now. I can fuck you to death and still take your body, and you'll beg me too." Eyes closed, he started to describe ten ways he might kill Dean, all the while fucking his mouth hard and grunting between words.

It happened as if all at once, Samuel's sword appeared in his hand, he stepped through the ring of fire, and strode up behind Cain. Grabbing Cain's long hair, he yanked it hard, putting so much power behind it that the fallen angel went sailing through the air. Giving Dean only a cursory look, Samuel headed after Cain, using his sword much like a shield, to protect himself and Dean from the blasts of tainted energy Cain was shooting their way.

"This ends it," Samuel said in an ice cold voice, moving closer, the wind kicking up around them.

A black sword appeared in Cain's hand and pointing it at Samuel, he walked towards him. They met in the middle, their swords clashing and setting off electrical charges like thunderbolts that seared anything they hit. _Dean. Get out of here. Now._ Expecting instant obedience of his mental command, Samuel concentrated on Cain.

Both angel and fallen angel fought with swords, and with the energies that shot from their palms. Samuel began to speak ancient words given by _Him_ , words that would bind his fallen children. The air got thicker around Cain as the ritual started to take effect. He swung his sword slower and the burst of power he tried to use to pulverize Samuel moved through the air with much less speed, making it easy for Sam to avoid them or use his sword to deflect.

The advantage was Samuel's and he wasn't going to waste it. His sword clashed with Cain's, discharging a thunderbolt that destroyed the wall of the building. "Arrghhh," he lifted his sword again, and swung it more like an axe than an elegant weapon, his left hand going up at the same time. While Cain was mesmerized by the sword, energy started to shoot from his palm straight for Cain who had lost his sword now. The fallen angel's body started to absorb the white charge, and he shouted in pain.

There was no mercy in Samuel's eyes, none. He started to chant again, stepping closer, close enough not to kill him with either sword or power. He raised the sword again and as he started to strike, something gripped his ankle and pulled him back.

As he turned to see what it was, something else wrapped itself around his sword arm, and yanked the sword away. It went clattering to the ground. Samuel's eyes widened as he saw black tendrils reaching for him, tainted like hell... "Cain!" he shouted, knowing the fallen angel had opened yet another gate to hell.

Before he could fly, or protect himself, he was dragged to the floor, face first. He reached out to get his sword, his fingertips slipping past it as he was dragged across the room. He knew it would lead to the pit of hell, and he fought to remain, to make the agents of hell let go. He was chanting again, calling on the powers of the Holy Ghost. The black tendrils were smoking, but yet strong as they continued to pull him.

Cain pushed his hair back, and struggled to stand straight. "Game point, Samuel. Game point."

* * *

Dean couldn’t breathe beyond the thick cock ramming down his throat, but every choked pained sound he made only seemed to make the fallen angel fuck his mouth harder. It was so bad, the young man felt himself getting lightheaded. Dark spots beginning to dance in front of his eyes and he wondered if he really could suffocate like this. Literally choke on another man’s cock. Dean knew he should feel fear, but all he could do was whimper and moan around the huge dick ramming down and bruising his throat, the lust Cain continued to feed into him allowing him to feel nothing else.

Besides, Cain wouldn’t kill him… yet… Perhaps he would eventually. Sometime while he was fucking him one of the many ways Cain was describing in vivid detail as he tortured his mouth, but not yet. It would not be over this soon.

But even as that thought formed in his head, suddenly it was over. He was being torn away from the fallen angel, or maybe it was the other way around, Dean couldn’t be sure at that point. All he knew was that suddenly he wasn’t being held anymore, his mouth wasn’t being brutally assaulted anymore, and he was falling. He crumbled to the ground, gasping desperately for air, and his vision swimming.

Then Samuel was once more in his thoughts, pushing through Cain’s influence, and that brought him back from the edge of unconsciousness faster than anything else. His lover’s mental demand was unfortunately easier said than done. Dean’s entire body was still trembling and weak from the powerful feelings Cain had forced onto him. They had not dissipated when Cain’s touch had left him and Dean could barely push himself up on shaking arms, and raise his head to see his lover and the fallen angel locked in combat.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Samuel was supposed to have killed Cain while he was distracted, but now his lover and the former angel were trading blows, both physical and using the powerful energies of heaven and hell against each other. Dean had to duck and cover his head when a stray blast of energy sent debris raining down on him from an exploded wall.

Samuel wanted him to run. He couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t. He was not going to leave Sam to battle Cain alone. Unfortunately Dean wasn’t doing Samuel any good being in the line of fire like this either. Then Dean remembered the colt. It was still upstairs. It had worked on Gabriel, there was no reason why it couldn’t work on Cain as well. If Dean could reach it…

He started to push himself up, using a broken chair for leverage, but another powerful explosion of power exchanged between the two angels and his own weakness sent him down once more. His body unwilling to obey his commands, but he managed to start to crawl out of the way. Trying to reach the stairs, and the gun, but despite the fact that Samuel had lost his last battle with Cain his lover seemed to have the upper hand now.

Then the unthinkable happened. Dean felt it. The energies of hell building, drawn on by Cain, but before he could scream a warning to Samuel the hell pit burst forth and dark tendrils grabbed the angel, starting to pull him down into hell. Samuel struggled, fought, but his battle with Cain had obviously weakened him already. The angel reached for his fallen sword but it was beyond his reach as the tendrils began to drag Samuel into hell.

Dean could feel them. The demons coming up through the doorway, soon they would be upon them. There was no way that Samuel could defeat them _and_ Cain… no… No!

Samuel couldn’t reach his sword, but Dean could. The young man didn’t even think twice about all of the angel’s warnings before he dove for the blue white blade, though they all came back to him once his fingers curled around the hilt. So often Samuel had warned him not to touch the sword, it would ‘burn’ him, and Dean only realized now what an inadequate description that was. The pain that traveled through him to his very core was indescribable, and Dean wasn’t sure how he didn’t scream.

Instead of releasing the blade as every cell in his body demanded of him, Dean held onto it tighter. Cain was on his feet again, his focus only on Samuel. Gloating. Using every ounce of willpower and whatever strength he had left, Dean surged to his feet and drove Samuel’s blade through Cain’s back straight through to his front. The resulting shockwave that slammed into him sent him flying and landing hard several feet away.

Dean had no idea if his desperate gambit had even worked. He would have loved to see Cain’s shocked expression if it had… unfortunately all he saw was darkness. 

* * *

Samuel could not fight both the fingers of hell dragging him into the pit and Cain at the same time. One thing he could do was survive hell. He'd done it before. What he could not do was leave Dean to Cain.

Floorboards buckled under his chest and stomach as his innate power unsuccessfully tried to act as a brake. He arched up and focused all of his energies into his hand and fingers. _Dean, get out._ The power he intended to unleash could easily destroy the entire building. He couldn't spare a moment to confirm his lover had heard and obeyed. Eyes dark and laser-focused on Cain, he started chant. His palm grew warm, then hot, and just before he blasted Cain, he saw Dean struggling to stand. _No. No, no, no... Dean!_

Horrified, Samuel distracted Cain with small charges rather than everything he had... his sole hope of success dissipating. Suddenly he felt anguish. Almost unimaginable pain flooding over his mental connection with Dean. "Nooooo!" he shouted, knowing his lover would be burned to a nub... sure of it.

Then everything went silent. Cain stopped, staggered forward, and the ground shook with the force of an earthquake. Propelled toward him, Cain fell in a heap next to him. Samuel reach out and grasped the fallen angel's arm, shouting through gritted teeth as he held tight and refused to allow the tendrils to budge him even when it felt like his body was about to be torn in half. Reaching with his other hand, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it out of Cain. Using it to cut the hold the tendrils of hell had on him, he stood up, his heart heavy with sorrow as he took a few staggered steps, searching for a pile of ash.

"Dean? Dean?" He swallowed and called again, mentally, using his sword to push away a table top that was piled over other debris. "Dean!" Samuel started to lift furniture and toss it aside, as he searched, but the silence in his mind gave him the answers he did not want to hear. He had not saved Dean from hell only to be the cause of his death, he had not.

Falling to his knees, he shouted Dean's name once again. This time the entire building shook with his sorrow and pain. He barely noticed when other angels arrived, didn't hear them chanting and closing the gaping gate to hell, and hardly noticed the hand on his shoulder.

"Samuel." Michael gripped his shoulder. "Did he..." his eye strayed to Cain's body. "Hell? Did he send him to hell? I will go with you," he offered. "Hurry."

Tears streamed down Samuel's face as he shook his head. "It is not that simple."

"Simple?" Cocking his head, Michael prodded him for answers.

"He did this. He used my sword. He killed Cain and he's...."

"That is impossible. No human can hold one of our swords long enough to do that. You have to be mis--"

"HE WIELDED MY SWORD!" Samuel shouted. "He wielded it. He killed Cain while I was being dragged into hell. Do you understand that... he did it, and now..."

"The human lives."

Samuel's face jerked up. He saw Dean in the arms of another angel, deathly pale. He shook his head.

"He is not dead, and he is not burned Samuel. You of all people should know miracles are possible."

Letting out his breath, Sam allowed Michael to help him up, the pushed the angel away as he strode over to Dean and touched his face. He swallowed over the lump in his throat and smiled. "He's... he's got nine lives."

"With the friends he hangs around with, he needs them," Michael said drily.

* * *

It was a large, ornate room, much like ones found in palaces. Dean was laying in the bed, still out cold, but cleaned of all other signs of battle. Samuel was dressed in white from head to food, and sat on a chair next to the bed, an unread book in his hand. His eyes were constantly on Dean, his every sense in tune with him, listening to his breaths, watching his chest rise, thanking his father when he started to hear echoes of dreaming coming from Dean. It was more than he'd hoped for, a gift... a miracle.

* * *

He felt like he was… floating… for a long time. It was dark, but the darkness didn’t frighten him. Not anymore. He felt warm. He felt safe. Protected… He wasn’t sure how long he remained there. It could have been hours, days, weeks, months, maybe even years. There was nothing to judge time by, nothing at all, but oddly enough that didn’t bother him either. Even though he didn’t know where he was… or even who he was… It was peaceful, there was no pain, and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to leave this place.

But then, out of the dark, there was a spark. Just the faintest bit of light, and he felt… a tugging… on him. It was strange to say the least, but it wasn’t alarming. The light was even warmer than the dark, it was soothing, welcoming, loving… so he didn’t resist the tugging, even as he felt the comforting darkness start to fade.

As the darkness faded, the light growing brighter, he began to feel other things. He wasn’t floating anymore, but resting on something just as soft. He began to hear whispers of sound, words he didn’t understand, but that was alright. He knew their meaning even if he didn’t understand them. They meant comfort, and love.

Memories began to flicker across the light like an old camera reel, just random images that had no meaning at first, but he knew were important. Places, people, names… he remembered his own then he remembered another’s even more… dear to him. One face in his memories he wanted to see above all others.

The light was giving away to darkness again, but at the same time things became clearer. He was more aware of his body. His muscles ached. His throat was dry and swollen. His head hurt like a three day hangover… but he was alive. He could feel his own heart beating in his chest, he could feel every slow breath he took in and out, he could feel the fluttering of his own eyelashes against his cheeks, and he finally opened his eyes.

As his blurry vision started to clear he realized was looking up at the ceiling of a room he didn’t recognize. But when turned his head towards the sound of a book hitting the floor, his gaze fell on a very familiar face, and Dean smiled. 

* * *

Samuel's expression remained serious for a moment as he inspected Dean's face, noting the brightness of his eyes and that smile that made the ancient angel's heart tumble. Reaching out, he ran his knuckles back and forth across Dean's cheek, finally smiling back at him and accepting he was fine. "If I'd lost you?" Samuel hung his head for a moment and shook his head, then looked back up at Dean. "I don't know. I don't know how I would have dealt with it. But you're here, and alive and I want to..." he looked behind him at the door, then leaned in and dropped a light kiss on Dean's lips. "No, not that. I want to hold you tight."

Seeing as they were in Michael's home, and there were other angels around, he did the next best thing, gave Dean a mental image of his arms wrapped around Dean. He'd hold him so hard, so close that he'd feel his lover's heartbeats, proof that he was alive.

"It's over. Cain is dead. You killed him with my sword." He didn't know how much Dean remembered. "And saved my life. Again." He gave a low laugh. "I think we're even, can we call a draw... please?" He might be an angel, but he wasn't so sure his heart could take anymore near death experiences where his love was concerned.

Seeing that cocky smile emerge, he added. "You're stubborn, and willful," he nodded, "a complete handful and I should take you across my knees and spank you for your rebellious ways." Despite his words, Sam didn't lose his smile, but only shared how afraid he'd been when Dean didn't listen to his order to get out, and then disobeyed again by touching his sword. _By the way, instead of calling you 'the human,' many angels are now calling you 'the miracle.' Just so you know._  


* * *

Samuel looked so… serious… for a few moments, just staring at him, a question started to enter the young man’s eyes. Before he could ask the angel what was wrong, however, his lover’s expression finally softened and returned his smile, though it seemed almost hesitant. Dean was still too tired to analyze it too much though, and merely sighed softly in pleasure when Sam reached out to touch his cheek.

Lost him? No. Samuel would never lose him. He would never leave him. The angel was stuck with him.

Then Samuel was kissing him softly and nothing else mattered. Though it was over far too quick for Dean’s liking, Dean couldn’t help the small huff of laughter that escaped him when Sam explained that’s not what he wanted, even though he’d done it. But then the angel went on to show him how he wanted to hold him so tight, and Dean wondered what was stopping him. Then again, maybe the soreness Dean felt deep in every muscle of his body had something to do with it.

Then Samuel started to explain. Over? Cain… was dead? Slowly memories began to click into place like pieces of a puzzle. Images that hadn’t made much sense to him starting to become less fuzzy and clearer.

Dean remembered Cain coming for them after he’d destroyed the protections. The trap they’d set. Things going… not quite as planned. He remembered Cain preparing to rape him. The way the fallen angel had abused his mouth… well, that explained why his throat felt so sore and swollen. He’d used Samuel’s sword? He’d killed Cain? Well… he guessed that explained why he was lying in this bed. Though it didn’t much explain why he was still… alive. He should be dead. Dean was sure he was going to die when he’d touched Samuel’s sword.

But it was over. Cain was dead. And Samuel, he’d saved Samuel. Dean couldn’t help but grin, even as his lover begged them to call it a ‘draw’. Yeah… he supposed they could do that. Then Sam went on to ‘scold’ him, threatening to take him over his knee as he’d often done whenever the angel thought Dean was being ‘difficult’ and instead of cowing him it usually led to a really hot making out session. Right now though, Dean only laughed again softly.

Then Samuel told him what other angels were ‘calling’ him now, and Dean raised an eyebrow. Well, that was kind of corny… but a second later Dean realized the implications of what Sam had said and fear began to replace the amusement in his eyes. They were supposed to be on the run. Michael had said the other angels would want him dead for killing Gabriel, and even if somehow that wasn’t the case now, they knew about him and Sam. What if they tried to separate them again? What if they tried to punish Samuel again for loving him?

_What’s… going to… happen?_ Dean finally managed to ask through their bond, not really trusting his voice at the moment because his throat was so abused. Though even his mental ‘voice’ was a little weak and shaky, almost as though he were learning to use it all over again. 

* * *

Sam hadn't expected that question to come so quickly. Though their plan to eliminate Cain had worked, they hadn't expected that a gate to hell would be opened and would attract the attention of a cadre of angels, making their escape an impossibility. _I am not sure._

He took Dean's hand in his larger one, his expression serene as he tried to infuse his lover with the same calmness of spirit. "You've been out for two and a half days. There have been meetings, quite a few of them right here, in your room." The reason for it had been that Samuel refused to leave Dean alone for long periods, and even minutes had him antsy and unable to concentrate. It was the complete lack of mental communication that had him feeling as if he was off his rails, that and the fear that Dean would not come out of this unscathed. No human had survived after holding an angel's sword, and with Dean being an exception, no one could say if he'd have his mental faculties or be reduced to the state that many humans were reduced to when they saw an angel in its true form.

"I have shown them Gabriel's justice," his eyes shifted away from Dean. He licked his lips. "Naturally, none of the Council knew. And Michael and a few others were raising questions about my punishment, thanks to you and because he was acting erratic." He looked back at Dean. "I downplayed the details of how he died, just said it happened in the course of my escape aided by you."

Seeing Dean was going to argue, he shook his head. "Shshsh. Just... please Dean? There has been a changing of the guard. There's a reason I wasn't questioned further, don't put it out there at the moment. This way it can be ignored if they want." He didn't know if any of this made sense to Dean, but he had to see that the politics of heaven was not something Dean was capable of steering through alone. "Our battle with Cain has been recorded, as well as the miracle. Now we wait while they weigh all of the evidence." Squeezing Dean's hand, he gave him a small smile. "if you've never prayed before, now is the time. I, for one, have hope."

* * *

Not sure… well, that certainly wasn’t very comforting.

Maybe they could still get away, go on the run like they’d planned. The room they were in hardly looked like a prison, but looks could be deceiving. Still, maybe they could slip out somehow. Maybe that’s what Sam had been waiting for, for him to wake up so they could make their escape.

Sam must have sensed his runaway thoughts, because the angel took his hand and Dean felt his lover trying to calm him. The same way Samuel’s mere touch once had in the early days right after he’d left the Asylum. When Samuel would allow him to crawl into his bed and hold him after a horrible nightmare, comforting him, letting him to sleep peacefully through the night.

God, that seemed so long ago now.

It was hard to feel calm though when their fate was so uncertain. If the other angels tried to separate them again… Dean didn’t know how he would endure it. The first time had been bad enough. Even though he wouldn’t have to watch his lover being tortured by Gabriel, not being with Sam, being alone for the rest of his life, would be hell enough on its own.

He’d been unconscious for over two days? Dean’s eyebrows rose a little at that news, though he wasn’t sure if he was surprised he’d been out that long or that it hadn’t been _longer_. Dean wanted to ask Samuel what kind of meetings, but then his lover looked away and told him. Dean’s own eyes turned pained and he squeezed his lover’s hand gently in comfort. He could only imagine how difficult it must have been for Sam to relive those months…

Though when Sam admitted that he didn’t tell the other angels how Gabriel had died, Dean frowned and his eyes filled with worry. Why hadn’t Sam told them, for fucks sake! Dean remembered all too well what Michael had shown him, what a punishment for an angel killing another would be. Of _course_ they’d assumed that Samuel had killed Gabriel, not him. What the fuck was Samuel doing?!

The same thing Dean would have done if their positions were reversed, that’s what. Trying to protect him.

Oh, he wanted to argue all right. Dean had quite a few choice words he wanted to say, but the look in Samuel’s eyes when his lover begged him not to nearly broke Dean’s heart and all he could do was nod instead. Would they just… ignore it? As Samuel put it. What if it wasn’t ignored? Dean wouldn’t remain silent then, he’d take the full blame for killing Gabriel. But until then, he’d trust Samuel and he would stay quiet.

The miracle… right. Didn’t feel much like a miracle, Dean decided as he shifted a little and winced. Though he returned the slight squeeze of his hand, he couldn’t return Sam’s smile. Praying… it certainly hadn’t seemed to help them so far. 

* * *

The next three days were a difficult time of waiting. Samuel had his emotions under control and appeared serene, but Dean was a different matter. Once he realized they were at Michaels' residence and not quite free to leave, he grew antsy. Especially once he was able to get out of bed and walk around.

The halls were empty for the most part. The angel guard kept a low profile on Michael's orders, while many of the angels were at meetings to discuss the fates of Samuel and Dean. During the days, he'd drag Dean out to the vast gardens hoping he would relax, but gardens weren't his lover's thing. There was television for Dean, and books for Sam, but inevitable, Dean would get up and start to pace, and ask when they'd hear something, and why they couldn't be there. Sam's explanation that Michael was their mouthpiece did not sit well, but in Sam's view, opening themselves up to questions would be worse. Michael had the bare bone facts, and could argue them. Sam and Dean could be tripped up by cross-examination, and no doubt, their relationship would become the focus of the meetings, instead of the execution of the original punishment, Gabriel's misconduct and death, and the battle against Cain.

It was also difficult, for both of them, to be so close and yet apart. In public, Sam touched Dean as much as he dared, putting his hand behind his back as he steered him to the dining room or the gardens. He also gave him chaste kisses on the forehead or cheek, and held his hand. At nights, he sat on the chair next to Dean's bed, refusing to leave, but unable to get into the same bed. They'd been burned by that mistake before.

Several times, Dean had tried to get him to play mentally. He'd show Sam images of himself stripping or touching Samuel, trying to engage him in mental sex play. Samuel stopped him every time. This wasn't the place, or the time, though God knew if they were alone... He wanted Dean as much as he ever had, wanted to erase Cain's touch, wanted his lover to replace the memory of the fallen angel completely.

*

In the large library, Sam stood by the window, book in hand and looking outside. He sensed that many of his kind were about to descend, and had mentally told Dean to be prepared. Smiling, he turned around as Dean barged in asking when they were getting the show on the road.

He crossed the room and put one arm around him, holding him close for a few seconds before pulling away. "Soon," he nodded. "Just... Dean, let them have their say. We'll have a chance to appeal if... you know. But it has to be in an orderly manner or they will bar you and me from speaking. Now... let's trust in Michael."

A few moments later, the dark haired angel walked into the room. His face gave nothing away as he walked for to Samuel, and kissed him in greeting, and then did the same to Dean.

Sam's gaze sharpened slightly. In the past, there would be no suspicion in his mind. But his eyes had been opened by Gabriel, and then there was the fact that he himself had fallen in love. When Michael met his eyes, his gaze was clear and guiltless. He must, however, have felt Sam's concern.

Laughing, Michael said, "he is almost as good looking as Raphael, but he is _your_ handful."

As others came to the door of the library, Michael called them in. "Let's not stand on formality, we'll have the meeting here." Once approximately ten angels joined them, he gave a preliminary statement. First he reviewed the original sin that had started everything, Samuel's conduct of having tasten forbidden fruit in the form of the human, Dean.

Sam moved closer to Dean, brushing his mind to sooth him.

Then Michael reviewed Gabriel's misconduct in enough graphic detail to make Sam hold his breath and wait for it to be over. After he finished, he told them, it had been deemed that Samuel had served all the punishment he would for his relationship with Dean. Though Samuel was pleased, he pressed his lips together. What was just as important was whether they'd be allowed to stay together. In his heart of hearts, he knew if their edict was anything other than that, he would break that rule, he would.

Next Michael spoke of the death of Gabriel. He reviewed the seriousness of the crime of killing an angel, and that extenuating circumstances were not often considered. In this case, however, it had been deemed the killing was unplanned and involuntary or in self defense. One angel who might have been killed by Gabriel had been saved, and the loss of the other who was clearly demented, in balance, seemed to constitute unusual circumstance which would allow for an unusual ruling. There would be no punishment for Gabriel's death.

Samuel and even more so, Dean, were recognized for their role in destroying Cain. The act of a human holding an angel's sword was deemed a miracle. More than that, it had to mean that despite the sins that clung to the body of the man, his soul was somehow pure. There was speculation that his connection with Samuel perhaps acted in someway to cleanse his soul.

Sam almost reached for Dean, then dropped his hand as Michael reached his last point. The prophets had been consulted, and ancient texts searched, and two other cases of an angel having a mental connection with a human were found. There was precedence for allowing the liaison as an inevitable consequence of the connection, but it came at a high price.

Frowning, Sam looked at Michael, hoping it wasn't a price Dean would have to pay.

"Samuel, you may choose to stay with Dean, but you will relinquish the gates of heaven for all time. Man will be your business now, and after Dean passes from this life. Do you understand?"

Sam blinked and felt tears stinging his eyes. "Yes," he said hoarsely. "I'll need to talk to... we'll need to talk."

Michael nodded. "You may give your response and record it in the great book before you leave. You're welcome to stay for dinner though, Raphael will be here."

Sam didn't speak a word, not until all of the angels were gone. Then he crossed the small space between them and closed his arms around Dean. "It couldn't be any better, or any worse."

* * *

Dean had recovered from his injuries faster than he’d expected. That first day he’d awoken from his coma he’d spent most of it sleeping, ironically. After sleeping for almost three days straight, you’d think he’d had enough. At least every time he woke Samuel was there. By his side, holding his hand, and ready to comfort him from any bad dreams that may plague him.

The next day he’d been able to sit up and stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. He’d had his first real meal since he’d woken up and might have overdone it a bit stuffing himself full. But considering he hadn’t eaten in three days it was probably no surprise he was ravenous. In more than one way…

Samuel wouldn’t touch him or kiss him in any way that wasn’t completely platonic. Maybe Dean could have endured that, but then Samuel wouldn’t even _sleep_ next to him. Just sleep, not even have sex, he just needed his lover close to him, the angel’s arms around him… But Samuel refused, and the all too recent memories of what had happened the last time Dean had pushed when his lover said no were enough to keep Dean from insisting.

Even though it was difficult, his entire body aching for his lover’s touch, and constantly left unsatisfied, yearning… He missed Sam, so much, and his lover was right next to him. He found himself missing Samuel’s mental touch as well, because the angel refused him even that as well. Even though there was no chance of anyone ‘over hearing’ them or ‘seeing’ them…

The waiting didn’t help. By the third day he was able to get out of bed, but he still felt restless and confined. Probably because they were confined, in Michael’s home, under house arrest by angels, and with no word on what was happening or what their fate may be. Samuel tried to distract him from his restlessness, of course, but it didn’t do much good. Especially when they were imprisoned, as nice a prison as it may be it was still a prison, and they couldn’t even speak in their own defense.

Instead Michael was speaking for them… and Dean remembered all too well how his last meeting with Michael had gone. While he didn’t think the angel would do or say anything to hurt Samuel, Dean wasn’t exactly on his favorite person’s list. Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Michael did his best to convince the other angels, as if they’d need convincing, to keep them _apart_. Michael might think it was for Samuel’s own good, especially since he thought Dean and his love was selfish and look at what had happened to Samuel because of it.

So, yeah, Dean wasn’t too happy about that.

He also wasn’t too happy with some other fears that began creeping into his thoughts in spite of himself. That maybe Samuel didn’t want to touch or hold him because of… other reasons… than the other angels watching them. That maybe it was because… of what Cain had done to him. What the fallen angel had made him do, how he’d made him moan like a whore even while he was choking on his cock… Maybe Sam was disgusted with him…

A part of him knew that wasn’t… couldn’t… be true… but then why was he thinking it? What if it was? What if Sam thought he was dirty… tainted… often Dean still felt dirty when he thought of it and no amount of washing removed the feeling of taint from his skin.

The forth day Samuel had gone to the library, alone, while Dean went for a walk. Dean knew his restlessness was affecting his lover, even if Samuel didn’t complain, and he figured the angel would want some space. Since Samuel hadn’t left his side from the moment he’d woken up.

Dean had been wearing a path with his pacing in one corner of the gardens when he heard Samuel’s mental ‘warning’ and he rushed to the library as fast as he could. Trying to appear calm, but his heart was beating so hard against his ribs he could practically hear it. But Sam didn’t appear worried. Hopefully it was a good sign… he hoped…

The young man swallowed hard and nodded at Samuel’s suggestion. Sure, he wasn’t good at being told to keep his mouth shut… but this time he’d try. Though when his lover went on to explain that even if things didn’t go their way they’d have a chance to _appeal_ Dean felt his heart plummet. Yeah… that wasn’t very reassuring at all. Especially if ‘appeals’ in heaven were anything like human courts, they’d probably be lucky if their plea got heard before Dean was ninety or something. The thought of never seeing or speaking to Samuel for years…

Dean wished he had as much trust in Michael as Samuel did.

When the other angel finally appeared, Samuel and then himself in the manner Dean had come to expect, he wished he could have offered the other angel a smile or something. But he couldn’t help doubting that Michael’s politeness was more a favor to Samuel than any real desire to see him. Michael had every reason to hate him…

Dean didn’t even notice the look that Samuel had given Michael when the other angel kissed him until Michael said something and Dean looked to his lover with a raised eyebrow. Well, now that was ironic. Especially when it used to be Dean who’d always get jealous when he saw someone else kissing Sam even innocently.

The slight look of amusement was wiped off Dean’s face rather quickly when the other angels arrived, however, and once more his heart rate sped up. Though he did his best to keep his nervousness from his expression, he wasn’t sure he was completely successful. Often he had to resist looking to Samuel for reassurance. Though Dean did look at his lover, returning Samuel’s brief mental brush, when he felt the angel’s anxiety when Gabriel’s… treatment… of him was mentioned. He wished he could do more. Like take his lover in his arms and hold him, but of course he couldn’t.

Samuel wouldn’t be expected to endure more punishment… thank god. Though Dean was more than a little surprised when they went on to say there would be no punishment met out for the death of Gabriel. Dean wondered how much that had to do with the fact that he’d killed Cain, using an angel’s sword, and somehow surviving. Maybe they figured it would be ‘bad luck’ to kill him after something like that. It was obvious they still had no idea how he’d survived. Azazel had told him his soul was still marked for hell, and nothing had happened since then to prove otherwise. The fact that he’d survived… probably just blind stupid luck. But as long as it worked in their favor, that’s what mattered, right?

Dean found himself holding his breath as Michael finally got to the point Dean most cared about, whether or not they would be allowed to remain together. It seemed… like a yes. Samuel could choose to remain with him, they wouldn’t even have to hide their relationship anymore, but any elation Dean might have felt was tempered by the condition Michael gave. Samuel couldn’t return to heaven… couldn’t go home… ever?

Dean looked to his lover, saw the tears that Samuel seemed barely able to hold back, and the young man’s heart plummeted somewhere around the center of the earth. Talk… Dean wasn’t sure he could talk past the lump in his throat the felt like it was choking him. After everything… after _everything_ … Samuel was going to choose to give him up. Dean was sure of it.

He closed his eyes, fighting back his own tears, that tried to pour from him when Samuel hugged him for the first time in four days. He tried to hold them back, he really did, Dean didn’t want to make this any harder for Samuel after all. Dean couldn’t even really blame the angel. After what Cain had done to him… he couldn’t blame his lover for not wanting to give up so much… for damaged goods.

Dean swallowed hard and nodded slightly at Samuel’s words, taking a step back, pulling out of the angel’s embrace.

“I… I understand… its…” Dean tried to get the words out, to release his love from any obligation he might feel towards him, but he couldn’t… he just couldn’t. 

* * *

Samuel was unused to being so conflicted. The times that he had been he could count on one hand, and he only now realized each time had to do with Dean, in one way or another.

He cleared his throat and searched Dean's face, feeling waves of suppressed sadness washing over him. "I thought you'd be happy," Sam whispered. It made no sense in his mind because Dean had never been about future gratification, so Sam had thought the decision would be easy for him. Or that he wouldn't understand the import of Michael's words. "You're..." he reached out and caught Dean's teardrop with his finger. "Sad."

The silence was resounding. Sam reached for Dean mentally. _Talk to me, please. You know, in this I'll do whichever option pleases you more. Do you choose today, or tomorrow, for us?_ he asked, voice thick with emotion.

* * *

Happy? Why would Sam think he’d be _happy_ about this? Confusion mingled with the despair he was feeling, and trying so very hard to hide from Samuel. Not wanting to make this any worse for his lover. He didn’t even realize that some of the tears he’d been fighting so hard against had escaped until the angel’s hand brushed his cheek, wiping them away.

Dean had to look away from his lover’s questioning eyes. He was trying, he was trying really fucking hard, not to break down completely.

Then Sam’s question filtered over their mental bond, and he almost missed it because he was trying so damn hard to keep his emotions in check so Samuel wouldn’t feel them. At the question though, he turned back to his lover, an almost surprised look on his face.

“You still want to be with me?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Along with them all of his doubts and fears of why Sam _wouldn’t_ want to be with him anymore, from what Cain had done to him to never being able to set foot in heaven again because of him, spilled over their link as well before Dean managed to put a plug on them. 

* * *

"You doubt me?" Samuel asked, hurt and confusion tearing him apart until the barriers Dean had been trying to raise, slipped. He felt Dean's self-disgust over the way Cain used him, and his reactions to it, as well as his struggle... his determination not to be the cause of Samuel being barred from Heaven's gate.

"You have it all wrong," he pulled Dean into his arms, closing them tight around his body and resting his chin on Dean's head. "All wrong. There is _nothing_ to forgive, you did what you had to... what I asked you to. If either of us should carry guilt about that day, that time, it's me." Sensing Dean's disbelief, he knew it had to partially do with Dean's having felt his disappointment in the loss of Dean's innocence, so long ago, when Dean had prostituted himself out. _It's not the same. And back then, I was... my own feelings confused me, I was struggling with them. You know I would forgive you anything, and in this, there is nothing to forgive._

Unable to believe Dean thought he might never touch him again, Sam cupped Dean's chin, lifted it up and lowered his mouth down hard over Dean's. He kissed Dean with the pent up passion of a man who'd thought he lost Dean and who hadn't been able to touch him, to show him how happy he was that Dean was alive. _It would have been unseemly, and dangerous to touch you here._

Tangling his tongue one last time with his lover's, he finally broke the kiss. "Dean, it's not about me going to heaven. It's about... It's about choosing us for now, a time that will surely pass in the blink of an eye, or waiting for your afterlife, and being together then... for eternity. I want you now, but I don't know how ... how I would live out eternity without you." He also wasn't sure how he'd live this life without Dean.

* * *

Dean didn’t know how to answer Samuel’s question and it was probably a good thing that the angel didn’t seem to expect him to. Because Sam pulled him into his arms and Dean couldn’t help but practically clutch the angel in return. He’d needed this so damned much, just to feel his lover’s arms around him holding him close, loving him. He needed to feel his lover’s touch and not… Cain’s… No, he didn’t doubt Sam’s love for him, but after everything that had happened…

He hated that he could sometimes still feel the touch of the fallen angel on his body, the feelings Cain had forced on him, and not being able to touch his lover on top of it. Not even to show Samuel how grateful he was that he was alive, that they were both alive. On top of that the fear that even after everything the other angels would still keep them apart…

Still, it was difficult not to feel guilt and disgust over what had happened, even when Samuel said he shouldn’t. A part of him knew his lover was right, he’d had no choice, Cain had given him none, but Dean was still ashamed of his reactions to the fallen angel’s touch. He was even more ashamed that Samuel had been there to witness his defilement… and then when Samuel would not touch him afterwards…

Then Samuel was kissing him and Dean could only moan into his lover’s mouth as he clutched at his lover even harder. Pressing himself closer and holding Samuel tighter, as though he was trying to meld their two bodies into one. He didn’t want that kiss to end, even though when Samuel finally broke it Dean was left panting hard out of breath.

But when Samuel started to explain… Dean couldn’t help the confusion he felt because that was not what Michael had said. Michael had said if Samuel chose him then he could not enter heaven. Period. He did not say that after he died he and Samuel could be together in heaven. But since Dean knew he’d probably never end up in heaven anyway, it was probably a moot point, wasn’t it.

Dean shook his head and hugged his lover even harder if it were possible.

“I won’t leave you. Ever.” He swore, not even sure how he’d keep that promise but somehow he would. There were ghosts all over the place, after all. Surely if they could remain here then he could as well. Somehow he would. 

* * *

Samuel had two choices. He could waste time by starting to mourn Dean's eventual death, or he could live every day to its fullest with the man in his arm. He chose the latter.

"You plan to haunt an _angel?_ " A chuckle worked its way out of Samuel. He held Dean tighter, but allowed himself to be happy. Wasn't this what he had wished for? A chance to be with Dean, without having to hide the true nature of their relationship? He had that now, they both did.

"Let's get out of here. I want to be alone with you. Alone and free," he whispered thickly.

*

A half hour later, Samuel had made a few telephone calls and had changed into jeans. Dean had changed too, and gotten a jacket, and then the two of them went to give Michael their decision. Like Sam, Michael was a little sad, though he understood that Dean had no notion of how short a human life span was to an angel. Still, as he told the two of them, he couldn't imagine Samuel, or anyone else in the universe, having the stamina to fight Dean off once Dean made up his mind. Only a fool would think Dean would put exercise patience and put something off for the future.

As soon as they were done with Michael, Sam took Dean's hand and headed outside. _I know you suffered, wanting to be touched when I couldn't. It won't ever be like that again, Dean._ He squeezed his lover's hand as he made the promise, then quickly added, "which doesn't mean we're having sex in public or... or whatever else it is you learn from that sexopera you watch." The flash of mischief that entered into Dean's eyes terrorized Sam. "No. We are not roleplaying Brian and Justin... just no." And the only reason he even knew the character names was that Dean loved to turn the show on when he was around.

He stopped in the middle of the garden and pulled Dean up against him. "You ready?" Sam had never been this ready. Once Dean had his arms around him, he looked up, and they shot up high into the sky.

A smile played on his lips as the wind blew through their hair and they passed over cities and forests and farms. "Missed this, being free." He'd tasted freedom when they'd escaped from Gabriel's prison, but even though those had been three glorious days, there had always been a dark cloud over them. The knowledge they had to face Cain and that they would be on the run from angels had always been there, a weight on their shoulders.

Because the wind snatched their words out of their mouths, they spoke through their bond for a while, and then Samuel started to drop down. It was twilight and the soft glow from the sun sinking into the horizon was reflected in the waters below, an intricate crisscrossing of canals and bridges lined by ancient Venetian buildings. The narrow sidewalks were crowded with people and many of the water taxi stops had lines of tourists waiting for rides.

Sam searched Dean's face. _Our house is empty and everything is probably covered over. I thought we would celebrate here for a few days, before we go home. Or we can travel, see the world._  


* * *

Dean merely grinned when Samuel obviously picked up some of his 'plans' through their link. The angel probably thought he was joking or something, but Dean was completely serious. He'd find a way to stay with Samuel. Dean would have to talk with Bobby some time and maybe together they could come up with some non-evil, non-zombie, way Dean could remain with the angel after he died.

He nodded when Samuel suggested that they get out of here. It was the best suggestion the angel had all day in Dean's opinion.

***

The meeting with Michael was less stressful than the first, though Dean could practically feel the disapproval radiating from the other angel when they told him their decision. Michael probably still thought he was stubborn and selfish. After everything that had happened to Samuel because of him Dean couldn't really blame him, he supposed. Michael probably thought that Samuel was sacrificing too much for him, yet again.

Foolish… maybe he was.

But Dean knew he couldn't go his whole life without Samuel. Just those few months without his lover had been agony. Sure, there wouldn't be the whole factor of Sam being imprisoned and tortured, but still being unable to love Sam… Dean knew he couldn't do it. Not to mention that none of them had any idea if Dean was still going to go to hell once he died…

He had to live in the now, no matter how long or short it might be. Besides, he wasn't planning on going to heaven once he died anyway, he was going to stay with Samuel one way or another. Of course Dean didn't mention that to Michael, he didn't need the other angel calling him arrogant and foolish again even if he was.

Dean was glad that Samuel decided not to stay for dinner. He could only imagine them all giving him the evil eye while he tried to eat because once more Samuel had chosen him and that choice had taken Sam away from them again. Despite still not being too fond of flying, Dean was looking forward to it this time, and as he hugged tight to Samuel as the angel flew them away from there Dean finally found himself relaxed and truly happy for the first time in… maybe years. Maybe even his whole life.

Sure he'd been happy before with Samuel before all of this, but there had always been that fear of discovery that hung over both their heads. Now? They were truly free to be together, no hiding, and Dean couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear the entire flight.

Though Dean had to admit when they finally landed he was quite surprised that they weren't home. Venice? Seriously? Dean almost laughed as he looked at the angel. Samuel was such a romantic.

_Whatever you want._ Dean replied, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around the angel even once they were back on solid ground once more and Sam set him down. The young man leaned in to kiss his lover hard and long before pulling back and giving the angel a mischievous grin. "As long as there's a wall for you to fuck me against, I'm happy."

* * *

Dean's laughter was infectious, though Samuel was cautious. That look in Dean's eyes told him that Dean was about to make a joke, call him a girl, or something, and he didn't need their mental connection to know where Dean's mind was taking him. But when no crack followed, he was surprised. Oh... it would come later though, the angel thought.

As Dean's arms tightened around him, Sam instinctively looked down to accept Dean's kiss. The world faded away as their tongues entwined and they held each other, for the first time with no fear of discovery and no need to hide this love that Samuel had been powerless to resist from the beginning. It had been such sweet torture in the beginning, feelings that had surfaced and he'd fought against in the name of 'right.' He thanked God he wasn't one to follow 'stupid rules' and one that banned the pure feelings he had for the man in his arms was definitely that. He knew an exception had been made for them because of the bond between them, but wondered if he'd have been able to resist if the bond hadn't been present.

When Dean broke the kiss and made his outrageous comment, Sam's gut tightening with anticipation. He put an around Dean's back and started walking him down the narrow sidewalk paralleling the canal. "Lots of walls, thick and ancient... strong." He waited a beat, and added, "of course we might want to give you a few more days to make sure you're fully recovered."

Grinning at the cursing that came from Dean, he started to point out landmarks. Churches, squares that had been written about and featured in many movies, and the palazzos that they could come back to visit. There were many restaurants, and they stopped to check menus so they'd know where they wanted to go later, or tomorrow. As they crossed a bridge that went over a canal, they looked down at the gondolas passing under. Samuel shouted to one of them in perfect Italian, and the gondolier started to sing out loud, gesturing dramatically even as he controled the oar.

Once the sailor was out of earshot, they walked on, looking into some windows, and taking in the ancient buildings. At one point, Dean felt sadness resonating from a man and left Dean's side for a moment. He went and spoke with him, and touched his forehead lightly. By the time he left, the man looked more at peace with himself and was even smiling.

Grabbing Dean's hand, Samuel pulled him into a narrow street that lead them to a much wider sidewalk along the grand canal. "We're here," he said, pushing a bougainvillea covered gate open. They were greeted in the courtyard by the property keeper who welcomed them to Villa Castello. Following him inside, they were given a tour of the two story five bedroom villa with verandas that looked out over both the grand canal, and on the other side, the alley like smaller canal.

Samuel told the man they wouldn't need room service or house cleaning. He accepted the keys, and watched as the man walked down the stairs and out the double doors. Then he turned to Dean who was standing in front of the large window framed by shutters, looking out at the vast waters of the grand canal. "Mmm, like the view," he said, his gaze locked on Dean only. "Have you picked out a room for us, or a wall?"

* * *

Dean grinned at Sam’s reassurance that there were plenty of nice strong walls around here, and the young man couldn’t really help it if his entire body thrummed with anticipation at the thought of Sam fucking him nice and hard against one of them. Dean gave his lover the evil eye though when Sam said they should wait till he was fully recovered. Fuck that. Sam knew he was damned well recovered enough for that. Even if he wasn’t, Dean still didn’t want to wait. He wanted Sam now, damn it.

But instead Sam seemed perfectly content to take his time showing him around the city where they would be staying. Venice was about as different from San Francisco as night and day, but not in a bad way. Just different.

Sam was obviously trying to be all romantic with his seduction, and Dean was half tempted to point out that he didn’t need to be. He didn’t need to be romanced or seduced, he was a sure thing after all. But it seemed to make Samuel happy so Dean went along with it. Even though he rolled his eyes a little at the angel when Sam got one of the boat men to sing for them.

When Sam left his side for a moment to go over to the depressed looking man, Dean couldn’t help but smile a little though. That was his Samuel. Dean almost kissed the angel again right there in the middle of the street, but Sam was pulling him along at a faster pace before he could and Dean was curious enough about where they were going that he decided to give the angel a rain check on that kiss.

He was kind of glad he did, because soon they were at the place they would apparently be staying while they were here and... wow. Samuel was definitely spoiling him.

Dean wandered around the large house while Samuel took care of business, and he was looking out at the impressive view they had when Sam finally returned to him. Dean smiled a little at the angel’s words, and especially the look in his lover’s eyes as Sam approached him. The young man wasted no time looping his arms around the angel’s neck once Samuel was close enough and grinned devilishly up at him.

“How about the floor, right here?” Dean asked huskily as he brought Sam’s mouth down to meet his. 

* * *

Samuel's heart jumped as Dean threw his arms around his neck and drew him down for a kiss. _Anywhere you want, any way you want, just want,_ he answered, his blood already on fire from the tone of Dean's voice. Sometimes it was all that it took to get Samuel going, and it never failed to surprise him. Dean... this... it was a gift, all of the emotions and sensations that were wrapped up in his feelings for this one man.

Sweeping his hands up Dean's shoulders, he cupped his neck, his thumbs tracing his lover's jawline as his mouth moved back and forth over Dean's, his tongue tangling with his lover's, mapping every corner of his mouth, claiming him once more as his own. _Mine, only._ Cupping Dean's face with both hands, he crushed his lips harder against Dean's, practically devouring him.

Dropping his hands, he started to unbutton Dean's shirt, his mouth still welded to Dean's, walking him backwards as he tried to get closer. _Tease,_ he said, suspecting that Dean was intentionally stepping back each time Sam tried to bring their bodies into contact. As soon as he had the shirt unbuttoned, he pushed it off Dean's shoulders, and followed by pulling his shirt up over his head.

A predatory look entered his eyes. He gripped Dean's wrists and pulled them down, slightly behind Dean's back, then stepped back. A force held Dean in place, unable to step back or move forward. "I can tease too, I learn fast," he said walking around behind Dean. He kissed the side of his neck, and put his arms around him, sucking his breath in as his palms met warm skin and rippling muscles. He stroked every inch of Dean's chest and sides, kissing his ear, nipping his ear lobe and then nuzzling his throat.

His need flooded across their mental connection and came back twice as strong, laced with Dean's needs. He unbuttoned Dean's jeans, then holding the material with one hand, pulled the zipper down with the other. Just as he shoved his large hand under Dean's shorts, he ground his hips into Dean's ass, pressing his rock hard arousal up against him. "Need you. Want you so bad," he said huskily, closing his fist around Dean's already hard flesh.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but moan into his lover’s mouth at Samuel’s words and the way the angel kissed him so possessively. He loved it when his lover got like this, claiming him. The way Samuel held him and kissed him left absolutely no doubt as to whom he belonged to, as if there was any doubt before, and Dean willingly let the angel take control.

_Yours always._

Though just because he let Samuel take control didn’t mean he couldn’t make the angel work for it a little. Even though he let his lover unbutton and push off his shirt as they kissed, he didn’t let Sam get too close yet. Dean didn’t want this over quickly, after all, even if it meant teasing them both.

He couldn’t help but grin a little at his lover’s accusation, even as the young man ran his own hands possessively over his lover’s exposed chest once Samuel removed his shirt. He wasn’t able to touch his lover for long however, because Sam suddenly grabbed his wrists. The look in the angle’s eyes as Sam pinned his wrists behind him made Dean’s breath catch a little. Anticipation making his stomach clench a little.

“I would hope so, after this long.” Dean couldn’t help the cheeky reply as he grinned up at his lover. His eyebrows rising a little when Samuel released him and Dean realized he still couldn’t move. Well, that was just cheating. But Dean couldn’t really complain too much as his lover started kissing his throat and running his hands over him possessively, making the young man’s eyes flutter closed and a soft groan of pleasure escape him.

“Yes…” He whispered when those exquisite hands moved lower, undoing his jeans, and Dean gasped softly when his lover’s hand slid inside and gripped him without any hesitation. Making the young man’s hips buck and his head fall back against the angel’s shoulder with a moan. “Samuel…”

* * *

"Dean..." Sam responded in the same tone, squeezing lightly and stroking his hand up and down Dean's cock, loving how it thickened in his palm. His other hand roamed over Dean's chest, claiming him, claiming the muscles that bunched and flexed under his palm. He'd missed the physical connection between them and a very unangelic part of him had subconsciously been waiting, wanting, needing a chance eradicate the memory of Cain's hands and mouth on his human, _his_.

As he kissed up the side of Dean's throat and moved across his jaw, an almost feral glint entering the angel's eyes. Joining their mouths, he plunged his tongue deep inside, moving in and out of the velvet heat of Dean's mouth. With each stroke of his tongue, he took back what was his, searing away all traces of the unclean and fiercely demanding Dean show him again and again that there was no one else between them.

Samuel wasn't aware of how long he was trapped in that unfamiliar frenzy of jealousy. When he came out of it, he realized he was crushing their mouths together so hard, he tasted blood. He'd been manhandling his lover, rolling in and pinching his nipple and stroking his cock hard and fast, as if he was trying to bring him to completion. He'd been grinding forcefully against Dean's jeans clad ass and now he stopped suddenly.

Confused by his own lack of control, he broke the kiss and walked in front of Dean, searching his face and releasing him suddenly from the invisible force that held him prisoner. "Did I hurt you?" he whispered, afraid of the answer though his eye still bright with lust and he was barely holding himself back from ripping their clothes off and making Dean his again. He didn't sense fear from Dean, but he knew his lover could stop the flood of emotions across their bond.

* * *

Everywhere Samuel touched him, Dean felt like he was on fire. The long sure strokes up and down his cock making him moan wantonly even though they’d barely begun. The firm yet gentle fingers roaming over his chest making him arch into his lover’s hands for more, making his skin come alive with need. The heat of his lover strong and solid against his back, maybe the only thing holding him up as his knees went weak. Sam’s lips... fuck... his lips... Every kiss along his neck and jaw like a brand of ownership, and when Samuel finally kissed him, Dean forgot how to think entirely.

Sam’s lips sealed over his own so hard the only sounds Dean could make were small whimpers of pleasure that probably would have embarrassed him if he even realized they were coming from him. As it was, he couldn't think about anything other than the mouth devouring his own, parting his lips to allow the almost rough exploration of his mouth, twining his tongue with his lover’s but allowing Sam to take the lead. His whimpers of pleasure only growing louder when the angel’s finger’s began pinching his nipples almost painfully, stroking his cock faster and harder at the same time.

It was rough, it was dirty, it was demanding, and it was so damned hot Dean was sure he was going to come just from Sam kissing him.

But then suddenly the mouth on his own was gone, leaving him panting heavily and a little light headed from the sudden rush of oxygen. It took Dean a moment to realize that Sam’s hand on his cock was also gone, his hands were once more free, and the solid weight behind him holding him up was no longer there. The young man wavered slightly before he forced his weak knees to hold him up, and opened his eyes, his expression a little dazed.

“What?” Dean asked, his brain still catching up with the sensory overload he’d just been through, blinking a little dumbly up at his lover until the words finally processed. Hurt him? Sam had to be kidding right? Apparently he wasn’t.

With a soft breathless laugh, Dean put his now unbound hands to good use, looping them around his lover’s neck and pressing his body as close as possible to the angel’s. Dean groaned softly as he rubbed his aching hard dick up against Sam’s jean clad thigh, bringing his mouth so close to the angel’s he could feel his lover’s breath against his lips.

“No. But if you don’t fuck me right now, I might have to hurt you.” 

* * *

Sam's worry lifted when he realized Dean was telling him the truth. The heat in his lover's eyes, in the way he was practically fucking his thigh, and in his words re-ignited Sam's lust. "Promise?" he asked, lips quirking into an innocent angelic smile.

He caught the back of Dean's shirt and tugged, hard. With a single thought, he had the material tearing into shreds. "Look what happened," he said in a surprised tone. "Must be the environment here." Gripping the bottom of his own shirt, he tugged, and it ripped apart, reminding him of a scene in Dean's show, where one of the leads wore break-away clothing. "Don't even mention Brian Kinney," he warned, seeing the look in his lover's eyes.

Now they were skin to skin, and how he loved to touch Dean. He ran his palm up his lover's muscular chest then closed his arms around him and lifted him up. The instant he felt Dean's legs lock around his around him, he brought their mouths together, moaning as his lover rocked against him. Taking long, rushed steps, he got them into the living room, walking straight to the man-sized fire place. Next to it was a beautifully upholstered tantric couch shaped like an uneven wave or like two rounded pyramids, one shorter than the other, sitting side to side. Designed to allow for sex in countless positions, Samuel was sure they'd get a lot of use out of it before their time in Venice was up.

Straddling the narrow couch, he lowered Dean so his back rested on the higher of the two crests, making him arch around its curve and drop his legs down to the ground, also straddling the couch. Looking down at Dean, at his beautiful face and body, his to touch, to have, Sam's need was back with a fiery vengeance. Wantyounowrightnow.

Slanting his mouth over Dean's, he plunged his tongue inside, kissing him like they'd never stopped. This one man, boy, affected him so strongly, made him feel things with sometimes too much sharpness, but he wouldn't give it up for anything. Tangling their tongues together, engaging Dean in a heated battle, he reached between their bodies and pushing his open jeans apart, cupped his cock over his shorts. The sensation of Dean's dick thickening under his palm sent a fierce craving straight to his already hard cock.

He pulled Dean's jeans and shorts down to his thighs in a single hard tug, then caused them to fall apart so he could toss the material. Closing his hands, both of them, around his lover's cock, he stroked up and down his length. _Mine Dean. Always mine._ This time, he didn't fight the need to possess, to own, and didn't deny the wicked jealousy that had wormed its way into his heart.

Sucking on Dean's lower lip, he pulled away and started kissing his way down his throat and chest. He tongued Dean's nipple, lathing it until it was a hard nub under his tongue and doing the same to his other nipple. Sucking on his flesh, licking it, he branded his way down Dean's body to where his hands were still working his lover's cock. "Mmm, want you in my mouth," he said thickly, dropping down to sit in the on the couch, so his face was level with Dean's cock.

Guiding Dean's cock to his mouth, he started to lick him with the flat of his tongue, pulsing it against Dean's hard flesh. _Want you, want this,_ he mentally told Dean, showing him images of Dean desperately fucking his mouth, then sliding his body down over Sam's waiting cock. Though he didn't allow Dean's cock fully into his mouth yet, he rid himself of the last of his clothes.

* * *

Dean laughed softly at the angel’s question, and couldn’t hide the look of surprised amusement on his face when Samuel proceeded to rip off their clothes quite literally. It was a good thing he really didn’t like that shirt all that much. Though honestly he wasn’t sure he’d have given a damn even if he did, because now he had all the access he wanted to his lover’s beautiful body. His hands running over the expanse of smooth soft skin and hard muscles, practically worshiping, as though it was the first time.

Samuel touched him the same way but Dean barely had time to enjoy it before the angel was lifting him up and the young man wrapped his legs around his lover. Dean echoed his lover’s moan as they kissed each other breathless, for a moment their tongues fighting for dominance, and finally the young man gave in and allowed Sam to practically tongue fuck his mouth. When Samuel finally let him up for air, he was panting hard from both lack of oxygen and arousal.

The couch Samuel finally set him down on... was interesting to say the least, but it was surprisingly comfortable as he allowed Samuel to lay him back and Dean willingly spread out beneath him. Looking up into his lover’s lust filled eyes through dark hooded lashes, Dean licked his lips in anticipation.

“Fuck yeah...” Dean whispered before Samuel kissed him again hard. Moaning loudly when he felt his lover’s hand on his cock once more, he was so damned hard he could probably pound nails and the angel’s touch only made him harder. Made him buck up into the hand, frustrated by the small layer of cloth that still separated them.

But suddenly even that was gone and Sam had his large hand wrapped around them both and Dean groaned wantonly. His fingers clutched at his lover’s shoulders and he was gasping again by the time Sam’s lips left his own and made their way down his chest. A low keening sound escaping him when that hot wet tongue started to tease his already hard and sensitive nipples.

“Oh fuck... Samuel... god yeah...” Dean panted, gazing down at his lover with unmistakable need as Sam shifted and moved his mouth down to his dripping cock. The first swipe of his lover’s tongue along his heated length practically making his eyes roll back in his head as his fingers tangled in his lover’s hair. He liked this couch, he really liked this couch.

“We’ve gotta get one of these.” The young man moaned, rather proud of himself that he’d managed to string together a coherent sentence when his brain was exploding. 

* * *

  
_Great. Then everyone will know what we're up to._ Sam moved to the base of Dean's cock, then licked his balls, pressing the flat of his tongue over every inch and coming at them from every angle. Parting his lips, he started to suck on them, first one side, then the other, his fingers moving too gently up and down Dean's length. In a short period of time, he worked Dean up to a state of need, then relented and allowed his cock into his mouth. Sucking on his tip, he squeezed Dean's shaft, his hand moving over satin soft skin stretched tight across his rock hard arousal. He started to move his head up and down, sucking in more and more of Dean's cock, hallowing his cheeks to give him more pressure.

The emotions, the heat that flooded back and forth between them, whipping up each others' lust was intense, much like the first time they made love after Dean got him out of Gabriel's prison. It hadn't been as long since the last time they'd had their hands on each other, but between having had to watch Cain touch his lover, and then having had to hold back, to refrain from touching Dean himself when they were at Michael's, that had Sam desperate for Dean now. As his hand and mouth worked in tandem, he moved his free hand up and down Dean's body, large hands splayed wide and playing over muscles that tensed and released under his palm. Wanting what he'd shown Dean, he moved his hand to cup Dean's ass and started to pull him close each time he moved his head forward, encouraging Dean to ride his mouth.

As Dean fucked his mouth, Samuel's cock throbbed and pulsed with need. He ached to be inside Dean, wanted it so bad just the thought had him moaning around Dean's cock. They would be in sync, just like they always were. Like two parts of a whole, machinery moving fluidly, just right. _You were made for me, or I for you. There's no other explanation for this._ What they had was unique, a connection so deep even the angels had to acknowledge their need for each other went beyond mere lust. _Want to be inside you._ Pulling over Dean's cock with a wet popping sound and licking his tip one last time, he slid his hands up to Dean's waist and leaning back, so his own cock was angled up just right, he started to pull Dean down the slope of the couch so he could straddle Sam's thighs. His thumbs skimmed over Dean's belly, a groan breaking from deep inside his throat when he saw the heat in Dean's eyes as his lover moved toward him. 

* * *

  
_I don’t care if everyone knows how good you fuck me._ Dean replied, then lost the ability to think completely as Sam began working on his cock. The angel licked his shaft, his balls, touching him, stroking him, and sucking him in ways that made increasingly loud moans spill from his lips unashamedly.

Dean watched, his fingers combing through his lover’s hair, as Sam took him into his mouth. Wanting the sight of his hard needy cock disappearing into his lover’s beautiful mouth to be burned into his memory for all time. Wanting to forget everything else, everyone else that had ever touched him.

He knew Sam needed that too, as much as he did. Dean knew what having to watch Cain do those… things… to him had done to Sam. He knew knowing what those men had done to him when he’d been… whoring… himself had made Sam feel. What Rick had done to him before he’d ever met the angel… Just as his lover knew what watching Gabriel do those things to Sam had done to him…

None of that mattered anymore. It was the first day of their new life together, where they didn’t have to hide anymore. Where they could be together, love each other, show each other every moment of every day how much they loved each other. Every second of every day cherished. Dean swore he could give that to his lover, he swore as he showed Sam as all his love, pleasure, and trust through their bond. Fucking into his lover’s mouth and moaning in abandonment.

“Oh, god yes… yes… please…” Dean begged, eager for his lover to be inside him. He let Sam move him. Straddling his lover’s hips, feeling the head of the angel’s cock press at his entrance and Dean didn’t want to wait. Dean started to lower himself onto his lover’s shaft, the burn intense as Sam’s huge cock began to stretch him but so was the pleasure as Dean threw his head back with a deep moan.

* * *

  
_Patience is a virtue..._ one moment Samuel was mentally chiding Dean, the next he was mentally shouting with pleasure at the sensations vibrating through him as his lover's muscles clenched around his aching cock. _Oh yes, oh fuck! So tight, so fucking good Dean, oh my fucking G..._ Clamping his teeth down, sinking them into his lower lip in a vain attempt to regain his composure, Sam tasted blood. It did nothing to dampen his need, nothing.

"See what you do to me? Drive me to commit blaspheme," he said through clenched teeth, hands gripping Dean's hips and pulling him down until his lover's ass was flush with Sam's' hips and Dean had taken every inch of his cock. "Dean..." he groaned, his voice filled with aching need and desire. One look at Dean's unsmiling face contorted with pain, pleasure and a deep burning need that flooded over the mental connection an Samuel gave up his attempts at controlling the fie that consumed him.

Swooping forward, he licked his away up the middle of Dean's chest and throat then welded his mouth to his lover's. Just as his tongue plunged into Dean's mouth, his cock, already lodged deep inside Dean, surged and grew impossibly harder, throbbing and aching to the point the angel could barely think. He lifted Dean up, kissing him harder as Dean pushed himself back down over his shaft. _Need you so much._  
  
In no time, they were in sync, fucking and grinding against each other, their hot breaths growing steadily louder. The way Dean was riding him had Sam in ecstasy, kept him there, right on the edge, shoving him closer each time he clenched his inner muscles around him. _Lean closer_ Sam demanded, wanting to position his lover so that his cock brushed and hit his prostate each time he thrust up or Dean ground down on him. This brought Dean's cock in closer contact with Sam's stomach, rubbing against it, provoking his senses and hastening his descent into madness. He leaned back on the narrow couch, pulling Dean toward him as he pistoned faster and harder into his lover, one hand now cupping Dean's ass, the other moving up and down his lower back and gave sharp little pushes each time the head of his cock brushed Dean's prostate, making the motion a bit jerky, making the contact a bit harder for a fraction of a second.

* * *

  
_Not right now it isn’t._ Dean answered his lover’s chiding cheekily and then he was grinning at the fluid curses spilling across their bond from Sam. In spite of the burn inside of him from his lover’s large cock filling him unprepared, watching Sam coming undone and feeling the angel’s pleasure, was more than worth the discomfort.

Even as Sam’s hands guided him the rest of the way down until his lover was fully inside of him, feeling like the angel was splitting him in two. Even as his lips parted in rapid gasps, and he couldn’t hide the flash of pain across his features mingled with pleasure at the same time. Even as his fingers tightened on Sam’s shoulders almost enough to bruise and he whimpered in pleasure and pain, it was all worth it. Feeling his lover so hot, so hard, inside of him, filling him completely, listening to Sam’s groans of pleasure as Dean tightened his inner muscles around him… it was so fucking worth it.

_Oh God, I love you._ Dean sent when all he could do was moan at the feeling of his lover’s tongue sliding up his chest and then covering his lips. He returned Sam’s kiss hard, clinging to his lover and groaning into the angel’s mouth as Sam started to move him up and down along his hard length.

Whatever pain remained became meaningless because it felt so good. His pleasure, Sam’s pleasure, his lover filling him, fucking him, loving him, he felt it all and it was ecstasy. Dean began to ride his lover’s cock, using his legs and his hands braced against the angel’s shoulders for leverage as he rose up and down on Sam’s thick flesh. Sweat began to break out on his thighs and the rest of him from the effort but he didn’t care, it was so good.

He did as his lover asked, leaning forward, and gasped against Sam’s lips as the angel’s cock brushed against the sweet spot inside of him with every deep thrust. His own cock beginning to leave damp trails of pleasure against his lover’s well muscled stomach, so fucking hard without being touched. And then Sam changed positions again and Dean couldn’t help practically shouting with pleasure as his lover seemed to get even deeper inside of him. Fucking him harder. Faster. Leaving Dean gasping and moaning in abandon and begging for more even though he didn’t know how much more he could take.

“Oh fuck… Sam… don’t stop… oh god, yeah… don’t stop…” 

* * *

Dean's pleas, spoken inside his mind and also vocal, in that distinct low and raspy voice, of his wound Sam up tighter and tighter. Between that and the slide of Dean's hard wet cock sliding against his stomach, Sam was driven to the edge. _Want to love you like this forever._ At the rate they were going, the ever increasing pace of their thrusts, 'forever' wasn't going to be that long.

With every lift of his hips, Samuel drove deeper into Dean, feeling both his discomfort and his need. Knowing any attempt to slow down would be met with an immediate protest, he concentrated on giving Dean more pleasure, sharing his feelings over their link and allowing Dean's feeling to wash over him. His movements became more erratic, his breaths coming out in short gasps and grunts with the effort of fucking harder, one hand sliding down over Dean's sweat slicked thigh, gripping it as a wave of heat lanced through him.

"Dean!" Immediately, he moved his hand form Dean's thigh to cup the back of his head and force him closer, his mouth fitting against Dean's as he thrust his tongue deep inside the wet heat of his mouth and emulated the relentless pace his cock was moving in and out of his lover. As Sam rode the firestorm of building heat, he shredded all remaining thoughts of others who'd been with Dean. _Mine Dean, body and soul, mine. Mine to hold. To love. To have, always._

Once more, he committed everything to memory, Dean's intoxicating taste, his scent, the way he felt in his arms, against his body, the absolute syncing of their desires and motions made possibly by their bond, the heat brought by the friction of their bodies, the sharp ache he felt each time Dean clenched his muscles tight around his cock, and the dull ache that came when he relaxed. Concentrating on these things helped him to last longer but white lights started to flash behind his eyelids and he couldn't wait any longer.

Jackknifing up to a sitting position, he moved his hand from Dean's hip to his back, molding him close as he pistoned into him. _Now Dean, now._

His last desperate thrusts where so uncontrolled, he almost took both of them off the couch. Sam gave a guttural cry against Dean's lips as he came hard, deep inside his lover, spilling his seed again and again as he continued to rock into, riding the waves of orgasm.

* * *

Dean didn’t know if it was the echoes of pleasure he felt from Samuel across their bond, his lover thrusting up into him harder and faster if it were possible, or the possessive declarations the angel whispered over and over into his mind as a vow. Perhaps it was all of it, or maybe it was just Sam’s simple command. Now. But at that moment Dean felt himself lose control completely, giving it all to Samuel.

The young man moaned wantonly against his lover’s lips, completely undone, his entire body shaking from the overload of pleasures sweeping through him. With Cain the feeling had frightened and disgusted him, but with Samuel he felt only cherished. He felt owned. Loved. Possessed. By this man, this angel, his lover, his love…

Forever. Yes.

Then Samuel gave that sharp final deep thrust into him, pouring his seed into him, and Dean’s back arched as he threw his head back with a cry that seemed pulled from deep in his soul. He came in that same instant, spilling hot streams of come all over his lover’s stomach and chest. It seemed to never end and as Samuel continued to move deep inside of him every thrust only made him come again, and again.

“Samuel!” Dean shouted his lover’s name so loudly over and over he wondered briefly with what little brain cells remained if they could hear him in heaven. That thought made a rather smug smile curve on Dean’s lips as he finally collapsed utterly spent against his lover’s chest. Still gasping and shuddering hard from the overload of emotions running through him as he clung to Samuel.

* * *

Closing his arms tightly around Dean, Sam held onto him as they rocked softly, making silent promises that he would never ever let go of his human again for anything. Kissing the side of his face and neck, he suddenly started to laugh. "You did _not_ just hope that they heard you in heaven. I don't want to receive reports of a legion of horny angels blaming us for this..." he groaned. "You're wicked. Very very wicked, and yes, I'm going to punish you after dinner. That spanking you're dying for," he chuckled, not knowing how a spanking could possibly be appealing and ninety percent sure Dean only kept asking if his threats were a 'promise' just to shock or tease him.

When they'd both caught their breaths, he helped Dean off him, then lifted him in his arms despite his protests, quieting them with one kiss after the other as he walked down the tiled hallway and into the master bedroom, and through there to the bathroom. When he set Dean down, they were standing in a large bathroom with a glass wall that looked out onto the grand canal. "They can't see inside," he said, sure that of the two of them, he was the only one who had any modesty and cared.

Opening the glass shower door, he started the water. A few moments later they were under the two shower heads, kissing and washing each other off. "I can't believe this, that we can... that this is okay with heaven," he said. Dean would never know how much guilt he'd carried because he couldn't control his heart and had fallen in love with a human. He never regretted it, not for one second, but he'd never been guilt free either. Maybe it had been a greater burden because before then, he'd been a model angel with nothing to hide. Not that he ever considered himself perfect, he wasn't.

He ran the pad of his thumb back and forth across Dean's lips. "I wish I'd found you sooner. I will always regret that I didn't. But I will spend eternity..." recalling only one of them had eternity, he gave a sharp intake of breath. "The rest of our time trying to erase the past, to give you a new life. Normal. Mostly," he smiled. "Loved and treasured like you should always have been. You're good. Naughty, but good, in here," he touched Dean's chest over his heart. "I don't lie Dean, you know that. And I will convince you its the truth, no matter how long it takes. However long," he said, his eyes raking over the love of his life.

* * *

Dean felt like he was floating in a warm sea of love and contentment, between his lover’s soft touches and the unspoken declarations whispered to him along their bond he felt utterly at peace. At least, until the warm cushion he was resting against started shaking with laughter. The young hunter couldn’t help but snort in amusement at Samuel’s teasing. A legion of horny angels? Now that was a scary mental image.

“Well, serves them right. They need to get laid anyway.” Dean replied, only grinning at Sam’s accusations of being wicked and waggling his eyebrows suggestively at the angel’s promised spanking.

Even though Dean really didn’t feel like moving right now, he allowed Samuel to ease him up. Unable to hide the sharp wince from how sore he felt when the angel eased out of him. Oh yeah, he was going to be feeling that for a while. Maybe he should have been a little more patient… but he certainly didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

But before Dean could think too much about how he was going to walk without limping too much, not wanting to worry Samuel, the angel was picking him up and carrying him. Completely ignoring whatever protests he tried to make, not that Dean didn’t secretly enjoy this. Even if it was a bit of a blow to his manhood being carried around like a chick on her wedding night or something. For some reason that thought made him blush.

He was not some kind of blushing bride, damn it.

Dean couldn’t deny, he was rather impressed by the bathroom. The view alone… The young man’s eyes trailed down and up the entire length of his lover’s body when Samuel finally set him down. Oh yeah, the view was really nice.

The warm water and his lover’s gentle massaging hands as Samuel soaped him down helped ease some of the soreness in his muscles at least and Dean didn’t bother to hide his enjoyment of the treatment. Dean smiled up at the angel and kissed the finger pressed against his lips. Yeah, he could hardly believe it either.

When Sam spoke of his regrets, of not finding him sooner, Dean shook his head a little.

“My life is with you. Always has been. Always will be.” What came before didn’t matter now. Only now did. Now and the future they made together. The young hunter smiled up at the angel and looped his arms around his lover’s neck.

“Oh yeah? And just how are you going to prove it to me?” Dean asked cheekily, giving the angel a rather naughty grin.

Samuel was an angel of his word. No doubt about it. 


	17. Chapter 17

Four weeks had flown by in the blink of an eye, as far as Samuel was concerned. They'd explored every corner of Venice, Florence and Rome. At some point, Dean had made it clear he'd had it with visiting one elaborate cathedral after another, and that this didn't mean that he was interested in going to a hundred other smaller churches either. The same went for the palaces, and the museums that Samuel had dragged him too. Sam foolishly agreed to allow Dean to solely choose the next few places they'd visit, he wouldn't have ended up forgoing Kolner Dom in Cologne and instead touring the red light district in Amsterdam. Seeing the mostly women in the windows selling themselves, Sam had felt the need to help some of them find their way home. Since these things couldn't be rushed he'd given up and at least amused Dean with his reactions to the various 'items on the menu' at one of the dens of inequity.

In his thousands of year, Sam had never had a better time. They'd laughed so much, loved each other so much, Sam could honestly say that he wouldn't miss heaven. This was his heaven on earth.

Now they were home, in San Francisco. They'd stopped at the restaurant downstairs and been welcomed and side stepped many many questions. Then they practically ran up the stairs to their place and whipped the big white sheet-like coverings off the furniture. _Home. Our home._ At Sam's inquiry about whether he should have carried Dean across the threshold, Dean pushed him away and said he had to go check on his baby and get a few errands done, and disappeared out the door. But Sam had seen the heat creep up to his cheeks, and couldn't help humming the wedding march to him mentally, over his bond.

* * *

The last month Dean had seen more of the world than he had ever imagined he would see. Considering at one point in his life the young man truly believed he’d never see beyond the barred windows of his room at the insane asylum he’d been dumped in, that was a miracle in of itself.

The fact that he had seen the world with Samuel just made it even more miraculous. Seeing the joy the angel took showing him things the angel had probably seen a hundred times over, yet still seemed to entrance his lover as though it was the first time. Hearing Sam’s stories of the places, things he’d seen and how they’d changed through the long centuries the angel had lived on earth. Dean was quite sure no one had gotten the tour of the Vatican like Dean had.

Dean hadn’t even minded all the visits to the museums. At least at first. He loved Samuel but there were only so many churches and art museums he could stand without falling into a coma from boredom. After Sam had agreed to let him choose where they’d visit next Dean had taken great delight dragging Sam to some of the racier sides of the ancient cities. As much as Samuel blushed sometimes it was a wonder the angel didn’t spontaneously combust, reminding Dean of the first time Sam had gone into a sex shop to buy them lube. Still, the sex had been pretty amazing afterwards, making Dean believe Sam was half faking his embarrassment at some of the things they witnessed.

Still, Dean was glad to be home again. As much as he’d enjoyed their ‘honeymoon’ as the young hunter had begun calling it, Dean had missed this place and their friends. It was good to be home… Even if Dean had threatened bodily harm to the angel when Sam offered to carry him over the threshold. Dean hid his smile even as he shoved the angel away laughing.

He was still smiling, even if Dean was mentally rolling his eyes at the humming Sam was sending him over their bond, when he reached Bobby’s garage. Though they had contacted the old hunter some time ago to let him know everything had turned out well, Bobby still threatened to kick the shit out of them both for putting him through all that, even as the older man hugged him.

Bobby had also gotten him what he’d asked for while they’d been away, the older man of course teasing him as he handed the small black velvet box over. Dean thanked his friend, checking on his ‘baby’ like he’d told Sam before he left the garage. He was almost done fixing her up and he couldn’t wait to take Samuel for their first ride in her… and of course find a suitable place to park and make out in.

Dean waited on the corner next to Bobby’s garage, waiting for the walk signal to flash, feeling a little nervous and excited as well thinking about Sam’s possible reactions to his gift. As long as it involved those breath stealing kisses his lover was so fond of, Dean would be happy.

Dean started across the street when the light changed. It wasn’t until he was half way through the cross walk that he heard the screeching of tires. Dean barely had time to turn to see the car that had run the red light, before everything went dark. At least the pain didn’t last long.

* * *

Samuel hummed as he worked, getting the apartment back into shape. He pushed some furniture out of the way, a smile hovering over his lips as he brushed past the chair near the window. The day Dean sauntered over, sat on his lap without a 'by your leave', and gave him a real real taste of what it would be like to be with him, it was forever ingrained in his mind. He'd once thought about that moment as really the first turning point, the day he'd started his downfall, or rather his trip down the road he could never turn back from. No sex between humans and angels. _Stupid rule._ He was more sure of it now than ever before. It was only made to trip up angels, what other purpose did it serve? Bowing his head he begged forgiveness for questioning, and yet his heart firmly told him he was right in this.

He looked at his handiwork and imagined Dean's reaction when the tantric couch arrived. Part of him asked if he was crazy to buy one, knowing that anytime he wanted to watch any of his educational or spiritual shows or if he was trying to read, Dean would be sure to try to pull him over to the couch. Chuckling under his breath, he started heading for the kitchen. His smile widened when he felt Dean's excitement, maybe with a touch of nervousness, he wasn't sure. Just as he was about to inquire mentally, blood poured down from his nostrils and the side of his mouth. Shocked, he looked down at his clothes.

The world went black. Dean's.

The world turned cold. Samuel's.

_NOooooooo_

Sam's mental cry was echoed by an audible cry that shook the walls of the entire building.

The angel was out the door, in the air, and at the intersection in a matter of seconds. On his knees, he put one arm around Dean's shoulders and pulled him out from under the front bumper of a car, and with the other, he shoved the car hard, sending it careening back into the middle of traffic, with the driver who'd been exiting shouting. Shouting, but not loud enough, not loud enough to drown out the cries in Sam's head, in his heart, not loud enough at all.

"Dean, Dean... oh God Dean. Father, father no, please... I beg you... Dean... Today was the first day, it was the first," he started to whisper, stroking his dead lover's face as tears fell from his eyes in an endless stream. "Don't leave me, damn it don't leave me." Sam didn't even notice he'd spoken his first words of blaspheme, and that he was repeating it over and over as he rocked Dean and held him tight.

Bobby ran out of the garage, his face falling when he saw Samuel holding someone. He'd rushed out because of the sounds from the accident, and now, he was sure it was Dean. He ran to the corner and looked over Samuel's shoulder. "That boy--" He'd seen enough death to know there was no hope. "God no..." Pulling his cap off, he gripped Sam's shoulder, shaking his head in denial.

Sam's mind was a muddle of thoughts. Pleas to God his father. Pleas to other angels, angles with the power to heal, angels who had the power to bring someone back from death. The temptation to try, but the fear that his failure might leave Dean's soul trapped between worlds. Torn, his heart, his soul torn. Shredded. The sounds of sirens came from far away. The man talking to him, touching his shoulder, Sam vaguely knew it was Bobby and that he was trying to offer comfort. Comfort where there could be none. Questions. Someone was asking how bad he was hurt, asking him to come to the ambulance. A hand reached out, trying to pull Dean from him.

"No."

Other hands touched him, tried to separate him from his love. "No!" he shouted.

Sam's eyes went dark, the wind kicking up around them, blowing hard... blowing so hard, all of the people, all of the police, everyone was pushed away. Bodies slammed against each other, and against building walls. Trash cans fell over, rolled down the sidewalk, their contents flying through the air. Posters ripped off utility poles and rode air currents. Parked cars sounded their alarms, and still the winds grew stronger, chillier, as cold as the gaping hole left in Sam's heart. Windows shattered along the street, every storefront, every unit for in the surrounding buildings. The car that struck Dean rolled over, glass flying from it like shrapnel, metal twisting and folding in on itself, breaking, breaking like Sam.

A few days later, flowers bloomed where Dean had fallen, and where Sam's tears had struck the sidewalk. Blood red and snow white flowers pushing their way up from asphalt and concrete next to flowers and cards left by those who'd seen the accident, or knew Dean or Sam. Patrons of the garage, people Dean had helped or touched in his short life beyond the walls of the asylum.

Michael stood next to the flowers, tears stinging the angel's eyes. This was a testament to how special Dean had been, the thing that Sam had seen in him. Many lived their entire lives and no one would notice if they crossed to the other side. The angel looked up at the sky and much like Samuel, found himself questioning.

[3 Days Later]

It was a perfect day. The sun was shining, the weather was warm but the light breeze made it comfortable. The smell of earth and grass permeated the air. It was exactly the type of day Dean would have chosen to corrupt Sam, to suggest sex on the roof or illegally drinking liquor in a park, or spending an entire lazy day in bed with the windows open. Samuel wished he'd said yes more often. How he wished he'd said yes to everything.

_Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust._

The priests words reverberated in his mind, over and over. The ritual was for the humans, of course. Dean had more friends than he might imagine. So many of them came by to give Sam a hug or shake his hand or to just let him know they'd been touched by Dean. He should be the one offering them words of comfort. Telling them Dean was in a better place. Easing their pain. He should be smiling and happy for his lover who by now must have found heavenly peace and left behind all of the pain of his childhood, all of the spiritual and physical burdens of life. If Sam knew him at all, Dean was re-living the most porn-filled and liquor enhanced periods of his life, much of which had taken place so recently in Italy.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. "Michael." It wasn't only Michael, but a host of other angels. Unusual. Very unusual. Sam's throat closed up on him as he fought the sting of tears.

"Brother." Michael kissed Samuel lightly on the lips. "I am sorry. He was so full of life, I never thought..."

Sam nodded. " _We_ never thought. He said fifty or sixty years was forever," he said, giving a bitter laugh. "I knew it was a lie, but..."

"I have petitioned to change the deal."

Looking away, Samuel knew how foolish their choice had been. They'd given up an eternity of time in heaven, to spend the rest of Dean's life on earth together. He should have thought more carefully, guided Dean in his decision. Instead, he'd wanted what Dean wanted, made that choice. "We both know what the answer will be." He turned back. "How is he? Has anyone seen him yet?"

"Not yet, but it has only been a few days and there hasn't been much movement between heaven and earth. I'll see him personally when I know where he is and bring you word. I have to go," he said, his voice filled with regret. "Come see me after, come stay with me."

Samuel didn't answer for a few minutes, then forced a smile. "Thank you. For coming, it means a lot."

Once most had left the grave site, he walked up to simple white marble headstone and ran his fingers over the words engraved on it.

_A century would not have been enough time_.

Ten times that would not have been enough, Sam thought, flooding the mental connection that used to be there and finding only cold and dark where once he would have found warmth and probably a smug response. He put one hand on the headstone and lowered his head, mentally whispering the things he felt, how much he missed Dean, hoping against hope that somehow, someway, what should not be possible would happen. Miracles happened every day. Dean had felt him, even when he was imprisoned and should have been inaccessible, he'd reached him and freed him. That had been no less than a miracle. One more, Samuel prayed for one more miracle.

He heard someone clear his throat behind him. Knowing they were out of the slips of papers that told people where to go after, he spoke without turning. "Marlowe's Watering Hole in Union Square. Free beer and all the junk food you can eat," he said thickly. He didn't mention they had the greasiest pizza, or that Dean loved to show him how oil dripped from it as he stuff almost half a slice in his mouth at once, or that he tortured Sam by forcing him to take a bite and admit it was better than any old vegetarian pizza. Or how he secretly loved it when Dean ordered hot wings and licked the sticky red sauce off his fingers.

The silence made him realize he was being rude. Letting his hand slide off the cool marble, he turned slowly.

* * *

“Sam.” Bobby greeted quietly as he approached the grieving man.

While Bobby had attended the service, the hunter had waited until now to talk to the angel, wanting to talk to him alone. Not knowing how the angel would react to seeing him since he hadn’t seen much of Sam since the accident. While the old hunter would never accuse Samuel of avoiding him, he couldn’t help but wonder if the other man blamed him for Dean’s death. Since the young man had been leaving his garage when it happened…

Bobby supposed it didn’t matter much if the angel blamed him or not. Bobby half blamed himself. Yeah, it was stupid. He was a hunter, and if there was one thing hunters had to get used to pretty damned quick it was death. Shit happened, almost always when you least expected it. But this…

It all just seemed so meaningless, even to him. It was true, Dean was a hunter. A damned fine hunter, too. Even though Bobby didn’t believe in destiny and all that crap, he couldn’t deny that boy had taken to the business like a fish to water, like it was in his blood. Hunters rarely made it to old age, even the best ones. Bobby himself was one of the few and that was probably only because he’d been retired for a number of years. He never would have imagined he would out live that boy, though. That Dean could be taken away from them like that…

“It was a nice service. Exactly what Dean would have wanted, I think.” The old hunter said, his words breaking slightly as his throat closed and he blinked away the sting of tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat before he continued.

“Dean called me while you two were… away. The idget called me collect from Rome.” Bobby sighed and shook his head, a little bit of irritation mixed with fondness slipped into his tone. “Well, he asked me to get him something and… he was picking it up the day…”

Finding himself unable to continue Bobby simply reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the small velvet box he’d given to Dean only three days ago. Once more he felt the burn of tears in his eyes when he remembered the young man’s excited and pleased expression seeing what was in the box and this time unable to stop a few tears from breaking free. He wiped them away hastily and cleared his throat again, placing the small box that he’d found later on the sidewalk on top of the gravestone.

“Thought you might want to have them.”

* * *

The sight of Bobby caused Samuel's eyes to flood with tears. Dean's boss. His friend. His mentor. He didn't even have to see the answering glitter of tears in the usually gruff man's eyes to know he was hurting as well. He should have gone to see Bobby, should have helped him find peace. But Sam had been a wreck. He still was, though he hid it well.

"It was short, he would have liked _that_ ," Sam agreed, a genuine smile curving his lips though his throat ached as did his heart. "He'd have been surprised at how many people there were. I don't think he ever realized..." No, despite all his acts of smugness, and claims that no one could resist him, deep down, Dean had never believed that so many people like him for him. Not just on the surface, but as a friend. Samuel wondered if time would have changed that, would have made Dean realize he was worth loving, that he wasn't that that useless, crazy, stupid kid that he'd been told he was, for most of his life.

Seeing Bobby struggle to speak, Sam put his hand on the hunter's arm, trying to give him the peace that he himself could not yet find. He tried to read the man's face, it was clear he wanted to say something important. When he started speaking, Sam's hand slipped off Bobby and looking intently at the man, he listened.

"Collect?" Sam cocked his head and smiled slightly again. It was a very Dean thing to do. "What..." He licked his lips as Bobby put the black velvet box on top of the headstone and was moved to almost cry.

He stared at the box, his heart aching, being squeezed. "For me?" he asked, though in his hurting heart, he knew it was for him. He looked up at the sky, his eyes brimming, his jaw throbbing as he prayed for the strength to hold back his tears. When he reached for the box, his hands were shaking. That had never happened to him before. Slowly, he opened the box, almost dropping it, almost cursing Dean-style. His eyes met Bobby's, then he looked back down. There were two perfect silver circles inside. The intake of his breath was audible. His hand closed around them tight, and he had to literally prevent himself from crushing them as he fought for equilibrium. He opened his palm again and inspected one of them, then gave a bitter snort. _Forever._

"Son of a..." He put his other hand on the gravestone for support as the tears started to come freely. "And he said I was the romantic... he... he... oh God. Oh God...." Suddenly it became all that much more real to him. They would have no forever, they would have no today. There was only the short yesterday and it wasn't enough. His shoulders started to shake as he cried soundlessly, holding both rings, staring at them. He couldn't bring himself to the thank Bobby, or say any more words. He couldn't pretend to be strong. The dam that had held his emotions in check had been swept away and there was no hiding it. Not from others, not from himself, and not from God or the angels.

* * *

Watching Samuel fall apart in front of him was one of the most heart breaking things the old hunter had ever seen and Bobby didn’t even attempt to hold his own tears back any longer. Maybe he never should have given Sam the rings, but he was sure that Dean would want Sam to have them. That Dean would want Sam to know…

It had meant a lot to the young man. Enough to call him collect from fucking Rome. Trusting Bobby to pick out the perfect matching pair of bands, something simple and tasteful, and to get them engraved. Bobby remembered laughing with the young man that Dean had it backwards, that you were supposed to propose _before_ the honeymoon. Right after he was done cursing the boy and telling him he was paying his damned phone bill when he got back too.

Damn, he was going to miss that boy.

Without a word, Bobby stepped closer and put his arms around the trembling, weeping, angel. He wished he had some words of comfort for Samuel, but what the hell could he, a mere mortal, say that the angel didn’t already know? It wouldn’t change anything. Dean would still be dead, gone, and no mere words were going to change that.

* * *

For century upon century, Samuel had offered comfort and peace to man, woman and child. He'd dried their tears, tried to explain the bad or when he could not, offer them a way out of their pain through faith. Never had he foreseen a circumstance where man would comfort him. The strong arms around him didn't take away the pain, could not fill the hole in Sam's heart or make the day any easier to bear. They couldn't even infuse him with the warmth of peace, the way his own touch could affect a human. But Samuel understood full well the value of this gift, this gift of solidarity, of another sharing your pain and walking in your shoes. Empathy. It was a virtue that had very sparingly been given to angels.

He allowed himself another few moments, then he pulled himself together. As he wiped the tears off his face, Bobby's arms released him. He pressed his lips into a smile and gave a nod of thanks.

Sam slipped the velvet box into his pocket, and then silently walked with Bobby toward his car. He was sure the wine would taste as sour as it always did, and the pizza would be as greasy as his lover liked. Maybe he would sit there and imagine Dean's antics. Maybe he would have something to smile or laugh about. Then he'd go home to his empty house and his empty bed and hibernate for as long as it took to feel like himself again.

[Three Weeks Later]

Samuel unfurled the white sheet and spread it over the unique, wave shaped sofa. Its arrival, two days ago, had been a shock. It had also been the last straw. He couldn't live here anymore, not alone with his thoughts and with echoes of his lover every which way that he turned. Every day it was something else. Every day.

He'd go down to get the mail, and there would be mail and car related magazines, or even a brown paper wrapped one which Sam was sure had been ordered for the purpose of teasing him, to the attention of Mr. Dean Winchester. He really ought to write to some of the senders, cancel the subscribtions, or even mark the envelopes 'return to sender' indicating the addressee had not left any forwarding address. But every time he took a pen in hand, the silver ring on his finger would catch his eye, and he simply could not bring himself to do it.

He hadn't slept in his own bed since the day of the funeral. What was the point? Either sleep would not come to him as he saw shadows of his lover in the bed there, with him, or worse yet, he would constantly reach out for someone who was not there. So many times before, he'd awakened to the sound of his own voice complaining Dean was too far. The living room couch was was only a little better. He might not get much sleep there, but he was spared the automatic attempts to curl around Dean.

What he wasn't spared was the sound of the DVR going on to tape Dean's shows. Unable to prevent himself, Sam would turn on the TV to see what was taping for his lover. Inevitably, he'd be reduced to an unangelic mess of man. Angels didn't mourn. Not for long, not even for their own kind. But Samuel knew that no matter what he did, no matter how far he ran from the things that reminded him of their time together, there was a hole in his heart that would never close, and that his mind would never stop its futile search for Dean. Not ever.

He made a final walk through of the house, shutting doors and memories, then walked out and down the stairs.

Head hanging down, he strode past the restaurant that had supplied so many of their desserts late at night. He knew he'd never come here again, to the cafe, to this street. He'd never look up at the large window of his apartment and imagine once more that day Dean had come home from work, and had taken things into his own hands, brushing the angel's protests aside and showing him what they both wanted and needed.

[Six Month Later]

He was used to watching people, but usually it was out of pure curiosity or because he was trying to figure out how to best help them. Now he was here purely for his own selfish needs, that much he knew. Leaning against the tree trunk he watched the Winchesters, John and Mary, their children Sam and Casie. They were at the park, at someone's birthday party. Their youngest, the daughter had to be about eight. She had her hair in pig tails, pulled back from her face and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose made a lump rise in Sam's throat. He could see Dean inside that child.

Only Dean hadn't smiled that broadly or laughed so carelessly at that age. And those long green eyes surrounded by dark fringed lashes... Dean's would have been filled with tears instead of delight. He would have been screaming in terror or loneliness rather than shrieking with delight as her Casie's father took aim and sprayed her with water. Dean wouldn't have been in the sunshine, he'd have been in a small dark room, afraid to be alone, and even more afraid of company. All those people, those people who'd abused him in his short life. Sam closed his eyes, trying to will peace to come to him.

He wasn't quite sure how long he remained. Mostly he ignored the brother who looked nothing like Dean but watched the sister intently. He was somewhat surprised that she walked up to him, though he was used to drawing people and being stared at himself.

"Are you okay mister? You look sad."

"Do I?" Sam forced a smile and tried to quell the resentment that he shouldn't be feeling. It was not this child's fault. "It will pass." He wasn't lying, in a millenia, surely it would pass.

"But you're crying."

Sam wiped at his eyes in surprise. "A little." He followed her gaze and looked down at the ground where flowers had already started to sprout . Her mouth had dropped open. Like Dean, she was observant.

"When I'm sad, I always tell my daddy and he makes it better. You should tell yours," she suggested. "That's what dad's are for."

"I did." Sam's gaze went to John Winchester.

"He didn't help you? Well that's not nice. My dad says families stick together." Her mother's call that it was time for cake had Casie waving and running back.

A cool wind started to blow. Sam's eyes grew dark and drew John's gaze. He disappeared a moment later, taking to the skies, his white wings bleeding to red as he struggled with sinful thoughts and feelings. It was funny, he'd had more trouble cleansing his soul and thus his wings now, then he'd ever had when he and Dean had hidden their forbidden love. He could only take that as a sign that what they'd shared had never really been wrong in the first place.

***

He'd knelt at the alter for 22 hours straight. His wings were purified but his prayers remained unanswered. "Please. A sign. Any sign, please father," he pleaded, his hand unconsciously going to the ring hanging from the chain on his neck. By now someone should have been able to tell him where Dean was in heaven, how he was doing. That he'd made it there. "Please... please I'm begging you... please," he whispered hoarsely.

[Nine Months Later]

There was nothing quite as strange and fun as adult humans playing in the world of make believe. Places like Disneyland fascinated Samuel. As did conferences filled with Live Action roleplayers, and the like. He'd spent hours at the Renaissance Faire, something he ordinarily enjoyed. On occasion, he had even joined in the fun by dressing in costume, much to the disgust of some of the other angels who said he was 'too human.'

If they'd been there and watched Sam at the Faire today, they would never call him 'human.'

He performed his work quickly and efficiently, barely cracking a smile at the admiring glances and the heartfelt sighs which used to amuse him.

Zeroing in on a woman with a young child, he approached her and touched her shoulder. When she turned to him, he saw her eyes were filled with tears and her cheek was bruised. Heat emanated from his hand, and he learned her husband was a drinker. He was drinking now, ale and mead, which did not bode well for the woman. "You have your keys. Take the child and go to the battered women's center."

"How did you know I was thinking of..." She licked her lips, her eyes widening as she felt warmth and comfort wrap around her like a blanket. "I can't, he'll..."

"No he won't. He won't find you. Leave now. It will be hard at first, but in a years time, you will be glad that you did." Sam felt a small hand take his and looked down at the toddler.

"You're tall! Can you pick me up so I can see?"

Sam looked back at the mother. "I will come see you in a few days, I will help you, but you have to help yourself." He ignored the tugging on his hand.

She shook her head. "Okay... you're sure he won't..."

Forcing his lips to curve into a reassuring smile, Samuel promised she'd be safe from her husband.

Moments later, he was in the ale and mead tent, sitting next to the quickly getting drunk man. He put his hand out and a small sparrow flew into the tent, landing on his palm. "Watch this," he said.

"Fuck off, I don't want any pets, especially bir-- what the hell did you do?" he spit out some of the ale as he spoke, pulling away from the long table.

"Demonstrating. This is what will happen to you if you go after Myra and Emily. They're under my protection now." Samuel coolly got up and left the tent, tossing the bird up into the air. It came to life and beat its wings, flying quickly away.

Hours later, after helping countless people, Sam's gaze was drawn to two men laughing and teasing each other. One of them kept shoving a large turkey leg into the other's face and the other man complained and pulled away from the first man's choice of food mock disgust. They argued over whether they would go to the costume tent next or the kink tent, then reached a compromise that had them both laughing. Seeing one put his arm around the other's back, Sam turned around and walked away, fading into the night.

***

"I saw Bobby yesterday. He was grumpy and complaining about everything under the sun, including his inability to find a trustworthy mechanic. Someone with a passion for cars." Sam smiled. "It seems people like that are one in a million. Special," he said, running his hand over the dashboard. "I went to the Renaissance Faire. It was... it wasn't as fun as usual, but I guess it was alright. There were a lot of costumes from the medieval ages or even a couple from Greek and Roman times. Towards evening, the costumes got more outrageous... I mean like barely there, Soddom and Gamorah outrageaous. You'd have enjoyed that," he said with a knowing look.

He reached for the grab handle, holding it tight for a moment as he looked down and took a deep breath. "Anyway," he looked up and over at the driver's seat. "I just. I miss you. So fucking much. I better go, before you have plants growing in your car," he sniffed and quickly opened the door. Pulling himself out, he ran his hand over the shiny top of the Impala, turned and walked out of the large garage.

Maybe humans weren't the only one's who played in the world of make believe. Maybe broken angels played that game too.

[One Year Later]

The battle grounds were misty and almost cleared of demons. From a distance, it looked like a peaceful meadow, but up close, blood stained the grass and several angels were being helped up and healed. The earth was also scorched in places where hell's creatures had their darker blood spill.

Samuel came out of nowhere, leaping over Michael and landing beyond, his foot slamming into the barrel chest of a dark abomination. He followed it, down, the earth shaking as they fell and rolled. Acid spewed from the demon, burning Sam's flesh. Though he made a sound of pain, he was relentless, finally maneuvering so he was leaning over the creature, crushing its ribs under his foot and holding the point of his fiery sword to its throat.

Though the chain around his neck had been secured under his armor, it fell out, the silver ring suspending above the demon and glinting when the light hit it right.

The demon knew it was already dead, but in the way of its kind, delivered one last blow. "He's one of us now. Soon he will come after you. Let's see you kill _him_."

Keeping his features even, Sam slashed the demon's throat. Not deep enough to kill it at once, but just deep enough to know it was a mortal blow as he walked away from the moans of pain. Hearing one of his brothers shout at him to "shut that thing up permanently," he merely gave a bitter smile and joined Michael, helping him with the wounded.

"They know nothing. They've just heard the whispers of our brothers and sisters looking for him. They're baiting you," Michael reassured, putting an arm around Sam's shoulders.

"Is there still no word?" he asked, drawing away slowly. "There should be word by now. Someone must know."

"Sam, he may not be in heaven, but he is not in hell or purgatory."

"How do you know?" Sam demanded, his eyes filling with pain.

"Do you feel him there?" Michael demanded. "Samuel you of all people would feel him. You pulled him out once."

"I wish I could... I need to be sure," he said, brushing his hair out of his face and looking down. The wound at his side was healing, the blood that had run down his legs was starting to dissipate. "I can't just leave it as 'maybe.'"

"And what if he was _down_ there, Sam. What would you do, what could you do?"

Sam's gaze hardened, but he didn't answer. "I have to go."

"Come with us. Samuel, break bread with us, celebrate this victory."

"I can't." Sam took a breath. "It's one year. One year today," he said, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. Stoically, he accepted Michael's kiss, then took to the air.

* * *

As simple and plain as the grave marker was, it was easy to spot from a distance and drew a lot of attention. Unlike the other graves, the flowers weren't in a vase or arranged carefully at its base. Instead, they grew wildly around the grave, one for every drop of Samuel's tears that hit the earth. It went against the rules to plant flowers, but the maintainers of the cemetery had long since found that pulling the flowers out by the roots did nothing, they always came back, always.

Dusk was falling. The horizon was a band of dusty pink and purple, some of it from the heavy battle that had been waged and about which most of mankind had no knowledge. The usually cold white stone now had a rose tinge to it, a warmth that was more of a reflection of his lover, Samuel thought as he came to his knees in front of the grave. He put one hand on the stone, his eyes drawn to the silver band on his finger. He took a deep breath.

"One year. Feels like forty years in hell, Dean," he said, his thumb stroking the marble, imagining the hard stone was the soft curve of Dean's cheek. "I'm not complaining, I'm not," he shook his head. "It's just, if I knew where you were... if... dammit," he looked up, his eyes glittering with tears. "Now you got me cursing too, and you're not even around." He sniffed. "I wish you were here. I miss you so much. It feels wrong. _This_ feels wrong. You should be here, with me. You should..." he swallowed over the giant lump in his throat. "Bet you'd be thrilled to know you still get me hard. Only it's here," he touched his throat, "instead of..."

He wiped at the tears, letting them fall onto the grass next to all the other flowers. "You know I'd feel a lot better if I just knew... knew where you were. I just want you to be okay, you know? Up in the clouds, reliving your best moments. Maybe with me," his voice cracked and he started to cry again. "Dammit Dean. You promised. You promised you'd find a way back... you promised. So where the hell are you?"

* * *

“Look behind you.” Dean said softly, a small smile curving the corners of his lips even though his eyes were brimming with tears, barely held in check.

The grass was soft beneath his bare feet. It tickled. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like. He’d almost forgotten how sweet the air could taste, how crisp and cool as it filled his lungs. He’d almost forgotten what the sun’s warmth felt like on his skin, even though the air was cooling now, raising small goose bumps on his skin as it set. It was easy to forget so many little things when you didn’t have form, didn’t have flesh, muscle, blood or bone.

But he’d never forgotten this. He’d never forgotten _him_.

“Samuel… you need to cheer up. You’re molting. It’s not very attractive.”

He was lying of course. Dean had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

* * *

Sam froze. Something closed around his heart, squeezing it until he couldn't breath. It was hope. It was terror.

The voice was just right, the perfect pitch. He could hear a smile in it, a tease. Just like Dean's. Hearing the criticism of his wings, he looked down and saw no fallen feathers. "Molting," he shook his head, still afraid. What if he turned around and no one was there? What if he turned and it was Dean and then he left again. The ring hanging from the chain around his neck grew warm and started to vibrate his chest. It had to be Dean.

Almost in slow motion, Samuel turned. He was unsure of what he expected. A ghost, an apparition? It was anything but what he saw. Dean, in loose white clothing, looking... _perfect_. There was an aura around him. _Angel_. Sam licked his suddenly dry lips and drank in the sight, his heart lifting as the meaning of what he was seeing sank in. "Dean," he said eventually.

A second later, he was striding toward him, closing his arms around Dean and lifting him up as he turned in place, his eyes never leaving Dean's face until the moment their mouths locked. Sliding one hand behind Dean's head, Samuel kissed him, tasting him, breathing him in, loving him, putting all of the pain and anguish of missing him into the kiss as he kept turning. Words were impossible, but Sam spoke to Dean with is kiss, with his body, his touches, and with his mind as the mental path between them slowly cleared and opened up under the onslaught of their emotions.

* * *

Dean’s heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest when everything else around them seemed to slow to a crawl. Too long. Always too long. These few seconds between the time he spoke and Samuel turned around to face him. The months he’d been gone after he’d died. The months Sam had been taken away, tortured, by one he’d trusted. The weeks Dean had spent on the street instead of in Samuel’s care, still struggling his own demons and lack of self worth. The years before Samuel had come for him when Dean had been locked away in that insane asylum. Always too long they’d been apart. Not anymore. Not if Dean had anything to say about it.

The expression of disbelief warring with hope on his lover’s face when Sam finally turned to face him nearly broke Dean’s heart. So much pain, so much longing, echoed in that one look. The same pain, the same longing, that Dean himself had felt, though surely it had been worse for Samuel. Because at least Dean had known that one day he would be coming back. How soon, that was the only question.

Having your own private meeting with God was certainly a life changing experience. Being told you were the soul mate of an angel and destined to become one yourself was another. His reward for the part he’d played in the death of Cain. Of course Dean wanted to go back immediately. He’d begged, pleaded, and cursed, behaving very ‘un-angelic’ he’d been told, though not unkindly and maybe with a little amusement as well. Dean couldn’t simply go back, not as an angel, not until he’d learned how to control his new powers and new form. It could take centuries, maybe even millennia, he’d been told. Dean had done it in a year.

Of course he still had much to learn, but nothing that his ‘mentor’ could not teach him. His mentor who’d finally moved, closed the unbearable distance between them, and kissed him. Dean allowed himself to be swept up, holding onto his lover tighter than he’d ever been able to when he’d been human, and gave back all he was given. All the love, all the pain, all the relief, all the sadness, all the joy he felt seeing Samuel again, being able to hold him again.

_I’m here, baby. I’m here._ Dean spoke the first mental whispers over their connection that had been dead for a year. Too long. Too fucking long. God, how he’d wanted to drop those barriers the millisecond he’d stepped foot on earth again, but he was afraid what it might do to Sam to suddenly feel him without any explanation after so long, so he’d waited. Knowing Sam would come here…

_Missed you. Missed you so fucking much._ A flicker of amusement trickled over their bond as Dean suddenly grinned into their kiss. _But if you start singing the ‘Sound of Music’ I might have to hurt you._

* * *

Between the almost brutal hold they had on each other giving them a tangible physical connection, and the words and feelings washing between them through mental connection, Sam finally allowed himself to believe that Dean was here, with him, that it wasn't a dream, or a wishful daydream, that his was real. He didn't stop crying, couldn't, though his tears were of joy now rather than of sorrow.

_What is this 'Sound of Music'? I'll have learn it so I can avoid singing it,_ he answered, his heart lifting at Dean's wacky threats. He's missed this, the banter, the irreverence, the no holds barred love from someone who, based on his history, statistically should be the opposite, should be closed and withdrawn, distrustful.  
_  
Miracle. You're my miracle,_ Sam told his love, finally letting Dean's feet touch the ground.

The moment he pulled away to look at Dean again, he felt almost physical pain at the separation. "You ah... you look like an angel, but... you know, always think of you as more on the devilish side," he said, making it clear he meant humanity's answer to cupid angels in the form of mischievous red devils with pitchforks, and not the real thing.

"Who... made you?" As far as Sam knew there were only three with that power. His Father, Saint Peter, and until recently, Gabriel. "And how did you tempt them?" His lips quirked into a smile. To be honest, if it got him Dean, he didn't care how Dean had tempted anyone, not that he'd been serious about that. "Let me see... let me see your true form."

* * *

Dean laughed and shook his head. No fucking way he was going to let Sam come anywhere near that particular movie. Knowing Sam the angel would probably actually _like_ it and then there would be no end to the mental humming he’d be hearing over their bond. Sure Dean could always close it down, but he knew in his heart he would never do that again. Now that he had this connection again with his lover, after having lost it for so long, he was never giving it up again.

He grinned up at his lover when Sam finally set him down, his expression definitely taking on a playful smirk when Samuel called him devilish. Sam had no idea how often he’d been told how un-angelic he was behaving, but the powers that be didn’t seem to mind. Considering Dean was here, he was alive, and he’d been chosen to fill in the place Gabriel’s death had left vacant.

While Dean certainly wasn’t an arch angel yet, his maker seemed fully confident one day he would hold that title. Who was Dean to argue with God anyway? Even though he had… more than once…

“God. He said it was our reward for killing Cain and… for Gabriel.” Dean’s expression sobered for a moment before his lips quirked up again. “He’s not such a bad guy, God. Think I managed to convince him that no sex for angels rule is really stupid after all.”

Dean chuckled softly at Samuel’s request.

“Not even going to buy me a drink first, huh?” He joked but closed his eyes and concentrated anyway, allowing his human illusion to drop and spreading out his new wings.

* * *

"God... Himself?" Samuel whispered in wonder, taking another step back but almost stumbling. "You convinced God that sex..."

Why should he be shocked? He knew Dean. Only... this was God... Dean had talked to God about angel sex. He ran his hand through his hair as he shook his head.

"A drink first... you're incorrigible," Sam answered, grinning like a fool. He had missed this, missed the laughter and amusement in his life so much. His smile was replaced by an expression of awe as he stared at his lover in his now true form. He was everything that Dean had looked like in human form, but more. There was a warm glow to him, a field of attraction that would draw in humans, and at least this angel. His wingspan was broad, impressive. Sam started to walk around Dean, touching his new body here and there, and sweeping his hand down over his wings. "You're beautiful, Dean. Every inch of you."

Of course Sam didn't look at every inch of Dean, not yet. There was time for that. There was eternity.

Stepping in front of Dean, he leaned in and kissed him across the lips. "Brother." _Do not crack any of your jokes. This is serious business._

* * *

Dean tried really hard not to laugh at Samuel's stunned expression, and how his lover looked like he might need to sit down for a moment. He could certainly understand, it was all still kind of a mind fuck to Dean and he'd had a year to get used to it.

While the look of happiness, true, utter, joy on Samuel's face made it all worth while Dean knew he'd never forget how seeing Sam kneeling before his own grave, utterly heartbroken, had all but shattered Dean. It was not right. Not being allowed to send his lover some kind of word that he was all right, and that he would be back. Though, knowing how much Samuel must be suffering, had certainly motivated Dean to learn faster. Maybe that was the whole point.

The way Samuel looked at him, Dean could only smile, remembering all the times he felt such awe at how beautiful his lover was when Sam let him see him in his true form. How often he'd wondered what it felt like to Sam when he ran his fingers through the feathers of his wings, and Dean couldn't help but shiver slightly in pleasure when his lover did it to him.

Dean smiled into the soft kiss Samuel placed on his lips, even though it was far too light and chaste for his liking. _And here I had all these incest jokes planned. Damn._ Dean joked anyway despite Samuel's 'warning'.

* * *

"You're..." _Terrible_ "...perfect."

Every fiber in his body made him want to close his arms around Dean again, to hold him as tight as he could, to hold him so tight he'd never slip away again. "I still want to put you in some tower somewhere, wall you up, and make sure you're safe." _No, I'm not being kinky._ He knew his Dean too well. "Even if you are practically indestructible, I will never forget..."

His throat closed up as he remembered the day his music stopped. The day he found his frail human broken by a freak accident. "It's going to take me decades, centuries to believe..." That's when he did close his arms around his lover, bringing up flush against his own body, feeling his strong heart beat against his chest. Sliding his hand up Dean's back, he ran his fingers through his short hair, cradling his head in his large hand as he guided Dean closer and slanted his mouth over Dean's.

The kiss was slow and intimate, his tongue moving in and out of Dean's mouth, twisting and tangling with Dean's with increasing fervor. _Every night, you came to me in my dreams. Every morning, I lost you all over again. I don't know how much longer I could have done this, I don't know, Dean._ With each breath, he drew in his lover's scent, something he'd struggled so hard to hang onto as time passed. _If you hadn't come back to me, I might have..._ Thoughts of searching hell had entered his mind and he wasn't sure how much longer he would have resisted the temptation.

When he least expected it, something he really should have expected happened. He was swamped by need and desire, his mouth aching with the increased friction of their mouths, every muscle in his body tightening, tensing, craving to be closer, to be joined with his lover. Groaning, he deepened the kiss and ground his hips against Dean's, vaguely aware that thoughts of taking his lover on his own grave were not normal or the smart thing to do, he tried to control his needs by talking about business.

_Proper protocol requires that you visit each archangel and accept their words of welcome and any advice, before you go about your own agenda._ Every fiber in Samuel's being shouted 'no,' rejecting that notion completely. He broke the kiss, looked deep into Dean's eyes, and said with complete seriousness, "stupid rules. Let's take a week to ourselves. Let me see you fly," he added, his voice thickening with desire. "Fly _home._ "

* * *

Dean’s smirk was completely unangelic and entirely unapologetic. However his amusement faded quickly when he saw the pain flash in Samuel’s eyes. The pain his lover had felt at his death washing over their bond, and Dean closed his arms around Sam, hugging the other angel as tightly as Samuel held him.

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, even though he knew there was nothing he could have done Dean still felt guilty for putting his lover through all that pain. Dean knew exactly what it felt like. He’d gone through it himself, twice actually. When Samuel had been taken away from him and imprisoned by Gabriel. Then when Dean had died and hadn’t been allowed to see or speak to Samuel until he’d been trained. Both times had been nearly unbearable.

Dean returned his lover’s kisses again and again, relearning his taste, his touch, the feel of Sam’s tongue twining with his own, the heat of his body, the feel of strong muscles moving under warm skin, everything… Fuck he’d missed this. Missed him. So much. He wished he could have come back sooner. He wished he never would have left _at all_ but it hadn’t been his decision. You can’t really argue with god… although Dean had, quite successfully he thought, on many occasions.

When Sam admitted to him that he had been considering going to hell to look for him… much like Dean himself had decided when he’d tried to kill himself after Samuel’s imprisonment… The new angel thought he felt his heart stop and he held onto Samuel even tighter. As though Samuel might be ripped away from him again. He couldn’t really blame Sam for thinking like that but still… fuck. Maybe that was why God had finally allowed him to return? Before it was too late…

His mental apologies and promises never to leave Samuel again were interrupted by the powerful surge of lust that washed over their bond and Dean’s body reacted immediately. Moaning into his lover’s mouth and pressing even closer to the other angel, rubbing himself against Samuel’s firm hard body and feeling his own cock begin to stiffen in kind. Fuck… it had been too long… too damned long, and he wanted Sam _now_.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh loudly at Sam’s words when his lover finally allowed him up for breath. The new angel agreed whole heartedly however, stupid fucking rule. Home… god… that had never sounded so good. Though Dean couldn’t help but wonder what the hell they were going to tell everyone who thought he was dead.

“Only a week?” Dean asked, his eyes dancing with mirth. He was about to spread out his wings until they fell down to the chain around Sam’s neck, of course recognizing the simple silver band hanging from it, its match on Sam’s finger. So they hadn’t been lost. Thank god. Dean closed his fingers around the chain and pulled Samuel down for another deep kiss, this time when he let the angel up for air he was wearing the biggest shit eating grin he could muster.

“I think this is mine.”


End file.
